


I’m trying not to feel this music’s for you

by Jonesheartlit_20



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternative Story, Anxiety, Coma, Dreams, Emo, F/M, From 2x21, Gangs, Graphic Violence, Insecurities, It’s Jughead’s subconscious, Littlebughead, Memories, Non-con/attempted rape later on, Playlist, Protective Jughead Jones, Retaliation, Serpants, SomeCanon, Song fic, Stalking, Surreal, Teen Pregnancy, Trauma, Work In Progress, bughead - Freeform, can be a bit heavy, fluffnstuff, happy/fluff, i own nothing, inspiredbySons in some parts, inspiredbyinception in some parts, like Romeo and Juliet, medical drama, panic disorder, runaways - Freeform, slowburn, so many tags - sorry - brand new to this, sorryimsobadatthis, supportive FP Jones II, whole lotta angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 61,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25319833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jonesheartlit_20/pseuds/Jonesheartlit_20
Summary: This story is set after the events of riot night.  It’s a work in progress. I’m going to try and update every couple of weeks, sometimes a couple chapters at a time. It’s mostly alternate point of views.What happens to Jughead whist he’s under?  How will Betty bring him back?After what the Ghoulies did to Jug there are going to be consequences. There needs to be retaliation, but not all is what it seems.Expect surprises, secrets - big and small- lots of angst, with a healthy feel good mix of fluff thrown in here and there too when it’s called for. It’s a journey back to how they were, but things won’t be the same. Our beloved characters are going to make unexpected discoveries and have a lot of stuff to unpack.L@@K - CHAPTER 17 COMPLETE!Love getting Comments and suggestions xx
Relationships: Alice Cooper/FP Jones II, Archie Andrews/Veronica Lodge, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 21
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so this is something I’ve had going round and round in my head for a little while now and I’ve finally decided to take the plunge and get it out there to see what you all think - be kind this is my first go at getting my writing out into public spaces . I’ve been very inspired by the talent on here and thoroughly enjoyed reading the works. I welcome constructive suggestions and advice. This work is still very early in planning stages and the chapters I’ve written so far in my note books, but not ready to post, are by no means in order yet. Therefore I’ll do my best to update as often as I can but this could take some time...
> 
> Hope you enjoy. I’ve drawn a bit from personal experiences throughout the story as I find it therapeutic.
> 
> Of course I don’t own Riverdale or any of its characters and so this is my disclaimer it’s my guilty pleasure and I’m a Bughead and Lily & Cole fan - love their chemistry together and both super talented actors.

** Im trying not to feel this music’s for you **

Chapter 1

Betty squints out into the treeline at the strong silhouette of FP carrying his son, limp in his arms. She is shocked at how suddenly small and vulnerable her boyfriend seems cradled there – gone is the broad shouldered cocky front he puts on as the eighteen year old serpent prince. It’s unsettling and yet nobody can tear their eyes away. As FP steps closer Into the light, illuminated from the outbuilding behind them, Betty can see his face clearer; his eyes are red and wet and his lips are pursed together from the effort of the weight he is carrying and, she suspects, the effort it is taking not to cry and scream and fall apart. Just as she is close to doing right at that moment.

Betty gasps and looks over the boy in his arms, and she feels like she can’t breathe; he’s covered in mud & blood and everything is dark, dark against the dark of FP’s jacket, the darkness of where he’s just come from and the darkness in the rest of the hours stretched out before them. As he approaches she doesn’t want to look, but she has to, it’s just that it’s painful; it’s Jughead, _her Juggie_ , but right now he’s almost unrecognisable. She can see the blood dripping down jughead’s arm from where the tattoo has been savagely removed with a dirty blade, the tattered and ripped flannel – and she then notices the absence of his Serpent jacket, probably taken as a trophy… His hair is matted with the mud and dirt and his face is swollen. The beginnings of purple & black shadows, too many to count, are just starting to surface. He’s too quiet, too still and his eyes are closed.

_Oh baby how could you go through something like this…?!_

FP staggers forward and, as his arms burn and his back muscles shout at him, he drops to his knees, hard, and places his son’s body on the ground. “I’m so sorry, Jug, I’m so sorry”. It’s then that Betty starts repeatedly screaming “JUUUGGGG! No!” and then he does the same, and it’s a gut wrenching sound and he pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes “MY BOY…LOOK WHAT THEY DID TO MY BOY!”

He’s not moving, just lying there completely motionless on the ground.

_No, no, no oh god, no_ Betty screams internally to herself. She wants to see him, she needs to get to him to see he’s alright – that it’s not as bad as all that, that she’ll hold his hand and he’ll open his eyes….

Betty starts towards the love of her life, stumbling from the trembling coursing through her legs, but she’s faced with a struggle against a tangle of hands and arms and shoulders pushing her back trying to shield her from the scene – Archie and Veronica – whom love Jughead as well, who are also hurting but nowhere near as much as they know Betty is. Their instinct is to protect her. Betty continues to scramble against them both to get to him, she hits out and she screams, but her raven haired best friend is gentle “B,B,… look, look, look at me, look at me,” she says whilst cupping Betty’s face and trying to divert her gaze away, “sweetie… sweetie it.. it’s gonna be ok…”she wraps up her friend in an embrace and strokes her hair. Betty lets the tears fall fast “Oh, om, oh my god, he… he can’t be dead, please don’t …he’s gone…” and she collapses against Veronica in defeat. All her energy is zapped and she’s go no fight left to try and break away. This allows Archie to run over to Jughead. “KEEP HER BACK!” He barks.

‘SOMEBODY, CALL AN AMBULANCE! NOW!” Archie orders, and several Serpents at the outbuilding, including Toni and Pea, along with Veronica all reach hastily for their phones and it’s on its way. The young Bulldog goes into full cadet/soldier mode now; he turns his head and hovers his ear over his brother’s nose and mouth and watches anxiously for the steady rise and fall of this chest - it’s there, and uneven and only just. “He’s breathing , I think’ he sighs in relief. He keeps a watchful eye for any changes and, ripping more of the flannel, wraps a tourniquet around Jughead’s bleeding arm.

When the ambulance arrives Betty is, again, held back from view while the paramedics work on him. ‘They won’t let me see him” she begs. FP is the only one allowed to travel with him “one family member only” they said. She manages to rush forward and can just squeeze his hand one last time before they load him in. But FP reassures her that he’ll “fix it and not to worry”. For now Jughead is alive and the team in the tiny ambulance are working hard to keep him that way.

Betty’s fingers find the handle of the car door, even though she’s not entirely sure how she got there, and she collapses in onto the seat in a heap. Archie has to scoop her up like a child to sit her round the right way and then he buckles her up. Archie puts his foot down to catch up and within minutes they are at Riverdale General.

****

After a period of time, no one is quite sure how long precisely, a set of double doors are flung open and then four bodies get up their feet. 

“Jones family?’ The man before them is young, not much older than Jughead and Betty. He is tall and athletically built, maybe a cyclist, with clipped short brown hair and kind eyes, He is dressed in blue scrubs, clean and fresh, and clunks his knuckles and squeezes his hands nervously in front of him. The man discreetly assesses the group before him and asks himself how many hearts are about to break with what he’s about to say – and whether the one belonging to the younger blonde, still sitting looking at the floor, had already shattered. He always loathed this part.

FP, Alice, Veronica and Archie all start firing questions at the young doctor at once:

“Is he ok?”

‘When can we see him?”

“What’s happening, why is everything taking so long?”

“What is going on?”

‘Why can’t anyone tell us what’s happening?’

Betty doesn’t speak, but just keeps her gaze fixed to the same spot on the floor, turning over _his_ beanie in her hands and trying to find some comfort in its soft and familiar texture. Thank god he’d taken it off before the fight and left it with the motorcycle.

To an outsider looking in at this group it could be perceived that the younger blonde looks cold and lacking in any kind of emotion or empathy. The states of high arousal following a traumatic event or when faced with something the brain perceives as a threat are well recognised. Everyone has heard of fight or flight – god knows of course Betty was certainly in fight mode back at the clearing – but there is a third state, the very state Betty found herself in at that moment. It’s that classic ‘deer caught in headlights’ unable to move moment; in a state of complete shock, it’s the reason viewers of horror movies throw insults at their TV sets and call the characters stupid when they just stand there staring wide eyed and mouths agape instead of running away from the crazy man with the knife - it’s ‘freeze’. Betty’s legs might as well have been submerged in buckets of set concrete for all they were worth right then. The poor girl was glued to her chair and couldn’t move even if she wanted to. She was going numb physically and emotionally and starting to disconnect herself – her mind’s way of protect itself.

The man raises his hands in a sort of defence and tries to coax them all down, and he tries to grab the script from the shelf in his mind that he’d been rehearsing over and over whilst scrubbing his hands and changing into clean scrubs. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t had to deal with relatives before, he was, unfortunately, pretty well versed in what was good practice, but every time it was different and this kid he was so young

“Um shall we…? He gestures with one hand out, hoping to move the group on to somewhere more private and beginning to feel uncomfortable himself about starting this conversation out in such a public area. All Betty’s mind can register from those three words is that she hopes they aren’t being taken into _that little room_ , no good ever comes from people being shown into that little room. “I just thought, uh, you light like to go somewhere more private…?” He explains.

As if reading her mind, FP looks over at his son’s fragile girlfriend and utters “no, thanks Doc, I think we’’l stay put”.

“Very well then…I’m Doctor Lewis. I’m one of the registrars on the ER…he’s out of resuss now and being prepped for surgery.. there’s a consultant with him who’s just briefed the team and I’ll be going back in shortly…”

FP reached out to tap the young doctor on the back “thanks doc…” he started to say and Dr Lewis puts his hand up again.

“His heart stopped, twice. But he’s a fit and healthy boy generally and we managed to get it going again with the de-fib. However… it remains in arhythmic state…” he explains. “The electrical discharges of his heart are irregular. We know he fractured some ribs and this caused a pneumothorax; his lung collapsed…”

FP steadies himself on the arm rest and lowers himself to sit again, before leaning forward with his head in his hands letting everything sink in. Archie and Veronica are next to sit and Archie wipes his eyes and holds his girlfriend closer to him, as she buries her head in the crook of his neck. He glances over at Betty who has no one.

Alice is the last to take a seat, and she awkwardly sits down next to FP and tentatively puts her arm around his shoulder.

Betty was listening and committing all the important words and management plans to memory. However while her mind was working overtime at the same time she seemed to have forgotten how to breathe naturally and was doing her best to regulate her own oxygen levels, and the band around her diaphragm was getting tighter every time she tried to correct it. She was beginning to feel light headed and she shouldn’t tell if her vision was blurring from tears or something else entirely out of her control.

Dr Lewis continued to explain. “we managed to get a chest drain in and that’s resolved the breathing for now..” but he wasn’t allowed to continue because the words of an desperate father interrupted him.

‘“But, I mean, he’s going to be ok right?... y, you haven’t said he’s going to be ok…?”

“Look, I, d, I don’t think there is anyway I can… I wish there was some way to sugar coat this for you but I can’t… I am sorry. His injuries are…” he paused for second rubbing his hand over the back of his neck feeling panicky himself now and rushing his way to the end of this conversation, he tried to find the right words, “…significant, and I suspect there may be some internal bleeding – we’ll know more in surgery. We want to perform an exploitative laparotomy to assess the damage to the internal organs, and there’s some clinical evidence of blunt force trauma to his head, that we need to assess with a CT.”

Nobody spoke. There was nothing to do or say at this point except hang on the words of this doctor and hope there would be something positive in there somewhere.

‘His prognosis is uncertain and, I, I’m sorry it’s going to be a long night for everyone… we do have a relatives room – it’s on the next floor up; close to recovery, there’s a kitchenette and cot and bathroom… I’ll, um have one of the ICU nurses take you”

Dr Lewis stood for a moment rocking in his heels; not knowing when would be the most appropriate point to slip away and feeling obligated to stay until someone wanted to ask a question.

“We’ll do everything we can for Mr Jones…”

“Jughead”, Betty whispered and looked up into the eyes of the doctor for the first time.

“I’m sorry…?” He didn’t recognise her voice mixed in with the torrent other others earlier and wasn’t sure he heard her correctly.

“His name, he prefers Jughead” Betty manages to breathe out.

“ ok, well of course,”he nods with a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth, “we’ll do everything we can for Jug-Head”. And just like that he turned back to the double doors and left them alone again.


	2. Now in Dreams We Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And yet he was here, now in this place – whatever it was. It was different, distinctive – like he was actually there and not just watching through a window or playing a beloved movie in his head. Utterly perplexed and checking himself over now in this present, he recognises his old faithful Sherpa jacket and flannel, but hang on wasn’t I in my Serpent jacket?..’ he tries to compute this and only comes up blank again – it makes no sense. None of this makes any sense; the all consuming pain is gone, there’s no blood or mud and everything is clean and he’s dry and he’s sitting inside…? He tries to be logical and rational about it and is about to come to the conclusion that this simply can’t be happening, and so he must still be dreaming - it’s just an extension of images his mind is conjuring up. Or, more crazy, he’s in alternative universe or, he’s Dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww poor Jughead. This one is grim - sorry, not sure if I like it much and it could be triggering. Let’s see where it goes.

Chapter 2

Now in Dreams We Are

Jughead opens his eyes and takes in his surroundings. He’s feeling pretty tired and groggy and is craving coffee, so it must be before 10am. But he can’t know for sure because the blinds are closed and the clock on the far left wall has stopped. His hips are tight and his upper back aches across his shoulders and it radiates over the front of his chest, probably from his posture he thinks – Betty was always lecturing him about spending too many hours hunched over the laptop screen, and now the cold plastic chair he found himself perched in wasn’t helping. There’s rows of these identical green chairs laid out facing each other, and he realises he’s the only occupant in the room. The walls are apple white and lined with pictures of pebbles and seascapes and there’s some mainstream pop song he doesn’t particularly care for over the speakers. _What is this place, and why am I here?_ He thinks to himself and instinctively reaches for his trusted beanie and pulls it down lower over his ears as the his anxieties start to make their presence known.

The last thing he can remember is trying to make himself as small as possible, curled up on the muddy wet floor of the Ghoulies’ yard whilst he endured the beating of his life. There wasn’t any use trying to get to his feet as they just pushed him back down, and the attacks were coming from all sides and all at once. So he disconnected from the present, isolating and going into himself in acknowledgment that his options had indeed run out; if this is how he was going out, he’d at least have some control over his last thoughts. He allowed the flashes of distant blurry memories to cloud his mind and numb his other senses - take him some place else. They were all there, his family, in happier times, laughing, teasing and goading each other; Jelly, his father and even his long absent mother. A short flash of them all crowded around the tiny, and much too small and cheap fold out, dining table, with table legs getting in the way of their knees. His father presented them with a roast chicken (they couldn’t afford anything bigger, and he could count the number of full roasts with all the trimmings their family would ever have on one hand). Then there was _her,_ well of course she’d be the last thing to flash before his eyes. She was so so beautiful and he thanked his lucky stars that she’d still chosen to be with him everyday. She was sitting next to him, looking every bit the picture of domestic goddess, squished so tightly up against him to fit everyone around the table. She took his hand in hers under the table and squeezed it reassuringly before looking deep into his eyes and mouthing something sweet in his ear. When she cupped his face he felt the dainty band of platinum around her ring finger. There were other little tit bits and flashes such as leaning in the doorway watching her put on her make up perfectly in the vanity mirror before they head out on a date, him holding her asleep in his arms in her comfiest hoodie and bed socks under five blankets on his worn out couch while the credits role because, again, she’d missed the end of the film they’d been trying to watch for weeks now, watching her float down the aisle on his fathers suited arm whilst he stood there shifting his weight and wiping at his eyes. He was so grateful for these images but that’s all they were – images, dreams, a fantasy of the life he could have had, that he was sacrificing, now, for nothing.

And yet he was here, now in this place – whatever it was. It was different, distinctive – like he was actually there and not just watching through a window or playing a beloved movie in his head. Utterly perplexed and checking himself over now in this present, he recognises his old faithful Sherpa jacket and flannel, _but hang on wasn’t I in my Serpent jacket?..’_ he tries to compute this and only comes up blank again – it makes no sense. None of this makes any sense; the all consuming pain is gone, there’s no blood or mud and everything is clean and he’s dry and he’s sitting inside…? He tries to be logical and rational about it and is about to come to the conclusion that this simply can’t be happening, and so he must still be dreaming - it’s just an extension of images his mind is conjuring up. Or, more crazy, he’s in alternative universe or, he’s Dead.

He decides that he needs to try and wake up, when the noise of the sliding doors brings him out of this thoughts.

When he turns back to the sliding glass door he notices his girlfriend wonder in; _if I am dead, did she die too?! Did they come for her…? No no I’m dreaming that’s it… or maybe I’m not… urgh, I don’t fucking know…_

He contemplates that it could be somewhat plausible that this isn’t a dream; maybe the events of riot night had hit that him that hard that memories had simply fallen out of his head…or maybe they were still there just tucked away on a conveyer belt but too traumatic and painful to be taken down and processed just yet, and they would roll back around again and again so he could be forced to look at and confront them someday. Or, maybe it was an organic cause; something had happened to his brain, an injury, and if it was amnesia then he was sure she would be the one he would be there with him to work through how much time he’d missed.

She looks just as lovely as when he saw her last. She’s got her signature high ponytail and a pair of pale wash skinny jeans, with embroidered white roses on the thigh and hip, and cream sweater. She briefly visits the desk, behind the stud wall erected for privacy, and then brings her attention back to putting her phone away. As she walks over to the chairs she takes a deep breath in, in readiness of what she’s facing there perhaps. 

“Betty!’ He cries out, trying to get her attention – he’d already gathered that he had some control over his motor skills and was now very relieved to learn his voice was working too. He’s now not so concerned with where he is, only why she is here as well and why she looks so sad.

She sits opposite him, her expression flat and unreadable, poised, with her back straight and head high and forward - determined. However her hands were balled into tight fists in her lap; and he pondered at how she always did that when she was uneasy or upset. He worries about the state of her palms, and how much she’s been chewing down to her nail beds, and what could possibly have her feeling so deflated. So of course there is nothing for it and he pulls himself off the chair and sits next to her. He turns his body to face her and get as close as the stiff chairs and arm rests will allow and tenderly cups her closed fists in his hands. He gives her a little squeeze in reassurance that says ‘ _I’m here’ and ‘I’ve got you’._. But she doesn’t acknowledge his presence, move, look up or speak.

A door opens at the end of a corridor and she gets up without saying a word. Jughead reaches for her hand but it’s like time has jumped forward and he grasps at fresh air and realises she’s already walking down the corridor. “Betts, what’s going on… why are we here?” He whisper shouts after her. She, again doesn’t acknowledge him and he feels a sinking feeling that he’s done something wrong. He’s confused but he knows his best chance of getting any answers is to follow her, so he does.

She slips through a door on her left and so he slips in behind her. The door closes softly behind him and he stills for a moment, and takes in the dark room. There is a row of grey cupboards to his right, a thin rectangular window running the width of the room at the far end, but too high to see out of. It is so dark and grim, a complete contrast to the sunny welcoming waiting room they just came from. It’s as if the two rooms couldn’t possibly be in the same building. Betty is making herself comfortable in the centre of the room, lying back semi-reclined on a dark grey examination couch. He’s scared for her. Something just doesn’t sit right with him and so stays routed to the spot. None of any of this makes sense to him. He tries to shake it off, he needs to be logical about it all and he can, if he wants to. But she’s there, she’s real enough and she’s afraid and alone… in, whatever all this is and all the while it is becoming evident that no other support network is coming, it’s him, he’s it. He looks into her eyes, those captivating green eyes that have lost so much of their sparkle, and can see that she’s just as daunted as he is. So, he suspends any grasp he has on what reality should look like right now and steps forward to perch in yet another uncomfortable chair - next to her, just where he should be.

Jughead heard someone else in the room pottering around with some equipment and glances over to the other side of Betty. The figure is in grey scrubs and a dark mask, but the eyes are visible. It doesn’t meet Jughead’s gaze and so he is unable to get a good look at what of the face is exposed. He guesses it is male from the height and build. It wheels over a stainless steel trolley of what looks like, but Jughead can’t totally be sure because the trolley is higher than his eye-line, surgical implements. Jughead gulps the lump in his throat and hopes Betty hasn’t noticed. Also on the trolley is what looks like either a retro gaming joypad or something that would look more suited to be situated on the bridge of a starship. A screen drops down on an arm overhead and the lights dim down even more.

While he’s been scrutinising the unknown masked male, perhaps some sort of technician or surgeon, Betty had pulled up her sweater to just below under rib cage and was busy tucking in some paper towel into her waistband. He feels like he’s been punched in the guts when he notices the little pools of tears appearing in her eyes and watches her tilt her head up at the ceiling, trying to blink them away.

“I can’t believe this is happening” she says in a small choked voice. It’s the first time she has uttered a word. She’s distant with him. But everything he has witnessed points to one thing, something that still doesn’t make sense, something small and fragile, something so special and something that he didn’t realise how much he wanted until now. He feels so many things at once, but of course nobody’s confirmed any of this yet. “I know, me neither,” he sighs “I’m here baby”. She’s not with it, “he’s gone” she sobs. “Oh no, no sweetheart, please don’t cry, i’m here it’s going to be ok” he soothes and ever so gently tucks a strand of stray hair behind her ear before tracing her jaw line down and cupping her cheek. The realisation hits him hard in the chest – _you can’t hear my voice can you?_ ‘I’m here, I’m right beside you Betts”

His other hand interlinked with hers at side of the couch and he thinks, or does he just imagine, he feels a little squeeze back. He keeps it held tight and doesn’t let go.

Then it all gets ripped away from him.

He’s been so wrapped up in Betty, kissing her hand and stroking her, he hasn’t noticed the technician approach them both. He notices her flinch at the cold gel as it’s squirted on the taught skin of her abdomen. He watches the technician glide the Doppler over and over. The screen overhead hasn’t been switched on and this is unnerving him. Wordlessly, the technician turns back away from them to the trolley and Jughead hears the door open at the far end of the room. When he looks up again he’s terrified by what he sees; that it’s not just their nose and mouths covered but they are both wearing black hoods. The next thing that happens is the red hot blade of surgical steel is on her, cutting, and she’s screaming as a crimson tide meets alabaster skin. “JUUUGGGG! No!”

“Oh god, oh god,oh,god,- what the fuck…!” He looks on in total disbelief and the words that come out over and over are a panicked desperate mess. ‘’HEY!” He tries to wrestle with the scalpel and frantically snatches at the wrists of the first hooded figure. He shouts and tries to grab him anywhere “What the fuck, No, No, g, get off her” STOP!” He manages to knock the instrument out of the assailant’s hand and it clatters to the floor and gives him the opportunity to land a punch. As the hood stumbles backwards into the trolley grabbing his jaw, Betty and Jughead grab the paper towels to put pressure on and stop the bleeding. Jughead stalks towards the hooded figure with a murderous rage burning in his eyes; all he sees is red. But without warning he’s grabbed from behind around the neck and he can’t breathe. He’s immediately pushed against the wall before they plunge a syringe into his arm. He feels his legs lose all their tone and the room starts to spin and he sinks to the ground. One of the hoods crushes their knees into his chest, pinning him there, and Jughead sees stars as the oxygen depletes. The last thing he recalls in his peripheral is Betty’s couch being wheeled out of the room by yet another hood and her saying “they won’t let me see him”. As he starts to feel himself being pulled under, he pleads sleepily for them to let him go, to let him go to her “sh, she n, needs me…”

“you should have thought about that before” says an all too familiar voice before everything then fades to black.


	3. You and Me Always, You Held My Head Above The Waves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unpleasant physical sensations; that’s what her mother had chalked it all up to, they couldn’t hurt her, not really. Betty tried to believe that, she really did it was just that when she was in thick of it and it was so intense she couldn’t think beyond those sensations.   
> So here she was sitting hugging her knees tightly to her chest and making herself as physically small as possible. She could feel strangers’ eyes on her from across the waiting room. This time what she was experiencing felt so much bigger and more sinister. She felt like she was losing her mind or that some demon had possessed her soul and her body. It was pure white-hot raw panic. She truly believed he was going to die and thus so was she that night, right there sitting in that waiting room and there was nothing she or her friends could do about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this is long and it could be triggering as it goes into detail around panic Attacks and anxiety. Other than that, the story doesn’t move much further forward plot wise so if you need to skip then please do. Hence why two new chapters this time. Oh, and I’ll get back to Jughead soon...

You and Me Always, You Held My Head Above the Waves

"ok then..." said Alice a little too brightly for Betty's liking. "I'll go find that nurse and we'll all head on up, shall we?"

Betty tutted in distaste, and her mother chose to ignore it and floated off; I mean god it's not like everyone had to spiral down into an endless hole right now, but considering everything that had happened she could give them five minutes peace to get their thoughts together before moving them on again like a herd. A few mere hours ago her mother was being held in a choke hold by her father (whom, it transpired was actually the notorious serial killer 'The Black Hood' - you couldn't even make this shit up!), and now here she was flitting about and fussing and back to her old _Alice_ ways. Nobody had any motivation to move right now, and Betty was relieved her mother had made herself scarce for a moment. She knew she'd be less than supportive if Betty did feel like opening up to her. It wasn't that she didn't care, they were mother and daughter so of course she cared, but Betty believed there was always a hidden agenda with her. She was the one who taught her not to trust, and she wasn’t confident enough that Alice wouldn’t trivialise it. Betty's anxiety was in her mother’s opinion, well it was a weakness; a chink in the Cooper armour. _Coopers_ didn't let their emotions wash over them, no they were stronger than that Elizabeth. _Coopers_ could keep themselves in check - put together. They had to keep up appearances. Mental health was simply not talked about in that household and of course _"Betty its just a bit of anxiety, right?”_

_She was familiar with the routine of it, she knew the signs she was starting to get ‘up’; the bubbly tummy and more frequent trips to the bathroom when she felt nervous before a night out with friends, (or any big social gathering for that matter), how she would more often than not be on cusp of cancelling or calling in sick._

_There was also a time, not all that long ago, where she would have become fixated on the lump in her throat and expected her words to catch when she was asked to speak in class, let’s alone address the entire town. But she was improving with this, Jughead had helped her by just being there. When she had something to speak about that she was passionate about, the nerves actually helped her deliver her speech better than she could have anticipated._

_She had once thought it was symptoms of, what some could say was ‘being love sick’, when she was around Archie in that awkward phase during freshman year. However looking back on it now, she saw that actually the feeling physically sick, the sweaty palms, racing heart was basically down to the pressure to conform to what she thought was expected of her. They were supposed to be this perfect power couple; the boy next door and the perfect A student cheerleader, best friends turned high school sweethearts. She was taken in and infatuated with the idea of it all, the perfect romance. But in her head it was a losing battle. She was never going to be good enough for him, she was damaged and if he knew what was going on in her head when she was left alone with her thoughts she’s sure he’d think she was a fruit loop. He wouldn’t get it, nobody got it back then. Until her and Jughead got closer._

_She felt there was something seriously wrong with her, a darkness in her. She began reminiscing somewhat fondly about Jug’s birthday; the party he never wanted had been a complete bust, and he had pretty much short circuited on her for throwing the thing in the first place. He’d never directed his anger at her before, and it stung. She’d been pretty taken aback by his accusations that she was just “slumming it with him until Archie changed his mind”. It did upset her greatly and she couldn’t be around him so left him alone in the garage, letting his words hang there._

_But he did go after her and later in Pops he’d given a little bit of himself to her and she in turn had opened up to him about her self harming and darkness. He hadn’t freaked out, made a scene or tried to jump in and fix her with well meaning advice, no. He’d cradled her hands ever so gently in his and pressed his lips there, and then she’d nestled into the crook of his neck while he held her tight. There were no words exchanged and there didn’t need to be, because that had told her everything she would ever need to know. From then on the daily grind of life got easier. He was her safe space, her constant. He just got it, he got her. He told her she was stronger than she knew and stronger than all the white noise. He told her he’d survive because she was there with him. He told her it wasn’t a weakness but in some ways her super power; she cared so deeply, it made her meticulous and contentious and deep. She couldn’t believe him when he said she was resilient, and beautiful when she cried. He told her he loved her, not in spite of this darkness but because of it. He knew he had it too. They had a tendency to look out for each other, he’d always catch her before she teetered off the edge – now he wasn’t here and there was nothing stop her falling, her wings were broken._

Unpleasant physical sensations; that’s what her mother had chalked it all up to, they couldn’t hurt her, not really. Betty tried to believe that, she really did it was just that when she was in thick of it and it was so intense she couldn’t think beyond those sensations.

So here she was sitting hugging her knees tightly to her chest and making herself as physically small as possible. She could feel strangers’ eyes on her from across the waiting room. This time what she was experiencing felt so much bigger and more sinister. She felt like she was losing her mind or that some demon had possessed her soul and her body. It was pure white-hot raw panic. She truly believed he was going to die and thus so was she that night, right there sitting in that waiting room and there was nothing she or her friends could do about it.

The impact of all the medical terminology the good doctor was spouting off and the bleak prognosis had been like a sledgehammer to her sternum. Her heart physically hurt so bad and the pain wasn’t getting any easier. She was certain there was just a matter of time before the inadequate air supply and the damage to her heart would just cause all her systems to give up. It was all too much. You could die from a broken heart after all.

She did her best to hide it, she really thought she did. She just wanted to be invisible, or just teleport the hell out of there, and was it too much to ask for the ground to just open up and for her to disappear into it. It was becoming apparent that everyone was on egg shells around her, no one was any the wiser on what to do or say. She wasn’t sure if she’d actually have welcomed the distraction of any conversation or not though. FP had rubbed his eyes raw to banish any evidence of tears; perhaps the big man was self conscious of prying eyes and judgements and gossips too… He seemed to be endeavouring to distract himself with his phone and she noticed his fingers tapping away loudly and frequently -he was obviously in a conversation with someone. It was then, when she’d looked over and met his line of sight and tried to smile softly that he, conveniently, decided that he was going outside for a smoke.

Archie and Veronica were more subtle, although she would catch them exchanging glances at each other and looking over at her. Obviously, she thought, she was just a ticking time bomb or drama that everyone would rather avoid tonight. It was embarrassing. Her vision was becoming blurry and she felt nauseous. Betty dug her nails into her palms and squeezed her knees tighter. She wanted to hurt herself to see if she still could still feel. She wanted a different pain to focus on. Her arm muscles responded aggressively from the increased tension with electric shocks and spasms travelling up and down, popping and stinging. Of course Betty had lost the ability to use the frontal thinking part of her brain, responsible for rationalising and making decisions, and the guard dog in her amygdala was going berserk..

The simple fleeting thought, a ‘Dr Google’ fact of what shooting pains in your left arm and chest pain meant, was enough to reboot the already overactive alert system again. She felt the jolts of adrenalin flooding her system as her brain subconsciously put two and two together and got Heart Attack. She automatically checked her pulse on her wrist, a habit she’d picked up as a child, and panicked more she found it racing and fluttery.

The tears were free falling now, and she seemed have lost her peripheral vision, and another unwelcome possible ‘what if’ entered her head as she internally scanned her body for signs of anything to explain away what she was experiencing. _Her head was so loud_ and she wanted to scream. She tried to focus on her breathing; if she could just get it back under control… in for four…. out for one, two…. three… in… try again one…, two… three…four….hold and out…. One….two… she lost count of the number of rounds of breath she tried but noted how she wasn’t winning and she just couldn’t get that ‘out’ breath steady or long enough.

By this point her hands were shaking as the blood left her extremities and headed centrally. This was a new one. “I, I.I can’t… I can’t feel my hands…it’ it hurts, my, legs are going…” Betty was hyperventilating now and the words were directed across the aisle, a cry for help, in shaky sobs at Archie and V. She went back to pushing herself to breathe deeply and trying to find a soft rhythm, but it had gone too far. “Hey, B hang on we’re coming…” soothed Veronica, and just like that they both took a chair either side and wrapped her up in a protective embrace. Betty sniffed and said a small thanks, and Veronica took over coaching her breathing down. Betty was grateful but also quietly she felt ridiculous – a regular basket case. The whole thing was pretty humiliating, she thought shamefully. After all it’s not like she was the one that had just been beaten and left for dead. No, she wasn’t the one lying on the operating table. And of course it’s not like anyone else here was reacting this way – no it was just her that was a hysterical mess. God, she wished _he_ was here.

It was awful to watch their friend go through something like this. They were concerned and didn’t fully understand what was happening because it had never gotten this bad before. They felt guilty for not being there sooner, but they didn’t want to invade such a private thing and were all too aware that a simple “are you ok” could open the floodgates.

Betty would always be there for anyone that needed a hug or a shoulder to cry on. She’d even started an agony aunt column in the Blue and Gold. She was an active listener and genuinely cared about supporting other people. However she neglected her own well-being and didn’t think about putting her own oxygen mask on before helping others with theirs. So they nodded in acknowledgement at each other, confirming they’d stay with her as long as she wanted and they would look after her. She deserved to be supported. “We got you Betty,” said Archie “your safe”. “You are so strong B, I know it’s horrible but I promise, ok I’m here and I promise you are not going to die. And neither is Jughead”.

“I just, I love him so much V…” she sighed. Veronica planted a kiss to the top of her head. Betty cried harder into her friend’s clothing. It meant so much more coming from Veronica.

Eventually her blood gasses exchanged levelled out, the blood circulation in her hands and feet restored and the tension started to slowly seep away out of her muscles. She was still shaking, but not so violently now. She was so exhausted she could have just fallen asleep in their arms.

A little while later Alice returned with FP, two cups of cold coffee and a red headed nurse with wild curly hair. “This is Kirsty, she says the room is ready… if we want she can show us…?”

‘You feel ok now sweet?” Asked FP, whom unbeknown to the group of teenagers had been leaning against the far wall quietly observing everything unfold.

‘I, I think so” Betty said shakily and got to her feet, supported by Archie at her elbow. Kirsty explained that it was family only on the next floor as it was so close to ICU they had to keep the number of relatives restricted. She added that it meant that, unfortunately, this is where Betty would have to leave Archie and Veronica for now. However as Jughead’s _fiancé_ and his father Betty and FP would be allowed onto the ward. Her mother’s eyes went wide and she did a double take at them. She insisted she would be coming too as she was Betty’s family. Betty’s cheeks blushed slightly. She smiled and mouthed a ‘thank you’ at FP – he did say he’d fix it, she thought.

After a few more tears and hugs with her friends, Betty gathered up her belongings and mustered up the courage to face the next stage and make their way up with Kirsty. FP offered his arm, and Betty was touched by his sudden change of heart towards her. They waited for the lift, but when it was takin too long decided to take the stairs- it was only one floor.

As they reached the top of the flight of stairs and entered through into the lobby area, Betty glanced at her watch. It had been nearly four hours now since his stretcher was loaded into the ambulance. Her mind drifted off to Jughead again; how far Into the surgery were they now? Her mind was invaded with imaginings of the boy she loved more than anything lying on a slab, alone, still, with steel clamps prising him open and a heart monitor getting louder and louder. It was too close to home and she was becoming overwhelmed again. A swell of heat spread up from her toes, and the fumes from the alcohol hand sanitiser made her want to vomit. _No no not again…_ she felt clammy and had to rip her coat off as the fire spread. The corridor stretched out towards her seemed to be rising up before her eyes, like credits at the end of a movie, and the walls around were tunnelling so her only focus was narrowed in on the doors at the end – perhaps that’s where he was right now? Or maybe he’s already gone. She was rapidly getting lightheaded and feeling dizzy. “I, n, need to sit, I’m gonna, I’m going…” she slid down the wall and lost consciousness.


	4. Questions and Answers?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty came round to find she was lying with her legs slightly elevated on a grey cord sofa-bed/put-you-up, it wasn’t comfortable enough. The lighting was soft in the room and it reflected off the pale vanilla walls. She took in the details of the various trinkets and little details scattered about, designed to be drawn attention to and pleasantly distract, such as the water colour sunflowers, the mosaic patterned tissue box on the oak table, tiny pewter elephants in descending size order in a line of three and the tassels on the multicoloured afghan blanket that was covering her feet. She felt off, but for a couple of blissful oblivious minutes she forgot.

Questions and Answers

Betty came round to find she was lying with her legs slightly elevated on a grey cord sofa-bed/put-you-up, it wasn’t comfortable enough. The lighting was soft in the room and it reflected off the pale vanilla walls. She took in the details of the various trinkets and little details scattered about, designed to be drawn attention to and pleasantly distract, such as the water colour sunflowers, the mosaic patterned tissue box on the oak table, tiny pewter elephants in descending size order in a line of three and the tassels on the multicoloured afghan blanket that was covering her feet. She felt off, but for a couple of blissful oblivious minutes she _forgot._

That kind nurse, _Kirsty wasn’t it…_ was sitting on a chair in the kitchenette area writing notes. “Hi, Betty isn’t it?”

‘Oh, um hello, yes that’s right” she said sheepishly and looking around for her coat, feeling quite embarrassed and that she was wasting everybody’s time at getting in such a state. “I’m so sorry”, she said quickly, “I really don’t mean to be a pain…I just, it just came over me.”

‘It’s ok”, she replied with a gentle nod “I’m Kirsty, I’m a nurse practioner on ICU, Dr Lewis gave me a heads up, told me to keep an eye on you. Has anything like this happened to you before?”

‘Um… I, don’t think so. I’m sorry” she started to apologise and the asked “where is everybody else, did something happen?” She started looking for her coat and bag, preparing to get up and investigate. But Kirsty reassured her.

“It’s ok, I just asked everyone to pop out for a while so we could talk and I could hopefully do some obs?” Betty nodded in agreement and Kirsty wheeled over her trolley.

‘Obs for what? Wh, what happened exactly?” Betty probed, feeling a little vulnerable.

“You had a faint, or a syncope – most likely shock or panic attack related. It’s more common than you think… it’s why we watch the quiet ones so closely”.

Betty watched silently as Kirsty went silent and flicked out the watch from her breast pocket before proceeding to gently take her pulse from her wrist. Next she slid one of Betty’s fingers into a clip monitor and the little screen on the trolley lit up. “Just checking your oxygen sats,” she explained. “It all looks good so far”. 

“Thank you. I’m sorry, it’s just been.. oh god, it’s been such a horrendous day. I know I have anxiety, Jug is…he helps and now he’s…”

“Jug? Is that your fiancé?” Kirsty asked, knowing full well he was but just trying to keep Betty talking and trying to relax her. She did notice a little smile as soon as she asked.

‘Hmmhmm”

The observations continued whilst Kirsty made some general standard enquires. She took her temperature next and then moved onto slip a blood pressure cuff on.

“Betty, your numbers all look fine. I just need to ask you some questions, ok? It’s… it’s like I said, it’s most likely anxiety related but we just need to get a whole picture and make sure we can exclude some things..” she took out her clipboard in readiness.

“Ok…’ Betty said, barely audibly and little unsure of if she’d like where this was going.

“Now I know you said you have anxiety, have you had any help, counselling/CBT for that? Have have you ever fainted before?”

“No, well I mean I see the school counsellor, but that’t it. No not fainted before… that I’m aware of…”

“Ok, Have you ever had a seizure?”

“No…”

The questions went on for a while and were following the same pattern, trying to rule out the worst scenarios first – “any heart conditions, any Diabetes, any breathing difficulties etc…” Betty was relieved they were all an easy “no”. Then the questions seemed to get more personal and bordering on intrusive; “do you take any regular medication…? Do you smoke? Have you taken any recreational drugs…? Any trouble sleeping?... do you have thoughts about causing yourself harm…? Betty felt like she was being second guessed, like somehow she was responsible for getting herself in that state. Frankly it got her back up and she was on the defensive. Most answers were “no”, she didn’t want to answer the last two. Kirsty didn’t push her.

“Do you know when you last ate something?”

She had absolutely no idea. “Um… yesterday or this morning…I’m not really sure”.

“Ok… and what about fluids, when did you drink something?”

Again, she couldn’t remember – there night have been a pocket of time between being at the town hall and when she was summoned home. Maybe she grabbed something bore going to the town hall…? She definitely remembered feeling too sick to consume anything from the vending machine downstairs.

“Ugh…no idea,” she sighed and ran her fingers through her hair “but I’m sure I must have had something to drink at some point, right?”

Kirsty busied herself coiling up the wires and pushing the trolley to the door.

“Hmmhmm,” she puzzled and looked at the chart. “So, as I said the numbers look ok, there aren’t any real red flags… you’re certainly a bit dehydrated… and that would fit with your blood pressure being on the lower limit of normal as well… could be a touch of hypoglycaemia with the shock and adrenalin added in to the mix – your baselines get a bit knocked out of whack… any dizziness or chest pain before the collapse?”

“No, no chest pain, just feeling like I wanted to throw up and, ummm, I couldn’t get get my breathing right – like I wouldn’t do it naturally anymore…”

‘Ok. Thanks. I’ll feed back to Dr Lewis… he might want to come and see you, if that’s ok?”

“Sure, if he thinks he needs to… can you, can you ask about Jug please? I just want to know he’s ok – that he made it..”

“Of course I can. Oh and Betty,” she was walking towards the door but had now turned back just before opening it “I just have to ask… should have asked earlier because it’s standard…”

“Yes…?” Replied Betty without looking up. She thought the women was perfectly pleasant enough but she was so tired and couldn’t wait for her to leave… _what time was it now anyway?_

_“_ Just trying to rule out… is there any possibly you could be pregnant?”

Betty blinked and felt the familiar lump begin to form in her throat, along with a quick sharp jump in her heart.

“No, no that’s not… no” she shook it off quickly with disbelief. ‘No… no I’m not” the words came out in a flurry and she shook her head with more enthusiasm than needed.

‘Ok then. Well.. get some rest and I’ll come back when I can tell you more. Can I let them back in now?

_Sure why not, great fucking timing after you throw that live grenade in…_

“Ok” she said flatly.

Kirsty left then quietly, and Betty was left feeling no less anxious or reassured and with a whole set of new problems to contemplate. 

_No… no i’m not… I can’t be. No… it’s shock, she said it herself – that’s most likely isn’t it. It’s stupid anxiety. I’m not._

She took her phone out. _One way to put this to bed._

She scrolled back approximately a month, looking for the last cycle start date she marked so she could count forward 28 days, but it wasn’t there. Either she’d forgotten to input it and she’d have to just go back further to input it now, or she never entered it because it was missed. She wasn’t always exactly 28, more like 28-33, so that’s why she did this. She huffed in annoyance at the lack of organisation on her part and went back to the previous month. She found it and counted forward 28, marked it and then counted forward again. By that calculation cycle day 28 should have been yesterday.

_Great….!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh well, is she or isn’t she. Jughead stuff coming up next...   
> hope you are all enjoying it. I know I ramble and go on a bit. Please be kind, still Learning.   
> Comments please xxx


	5. But There is Comfort in These Dreams Where Darkness Is The Only Thing I See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s shapes and colours in front of his eyes; muted dusky hues intertwined with excited florescent dances of colour. It’s a cross between an Indian summer sky just as the last embers of sunlight sink below the horizon and the clouds bleed crimsons, burnt amber and violets into each other; tranquil and blissful, and what he imagines watching the northern lights must feel like. But there are no stars.

But There is Comfort in These Dreams Where Darkness Is The Only Thing I See

There’s shapes and colours in front of his eyes; muted dusky hues intertwined with excited florescent dances of colour. It’s a cross between an Indian summer sky just as the last embers of sunlight sink below the horizon and the clouds bleed crimsons, burnt amber and violets into each other; tranquil and blissful, and what he imagines watching the northern lights must feel like. But there are no stars. The sunset slowly gives way to black but the colours continue. It’s all his mind is allowing him to conjure up at present. It’s not really clear images at all; subjective and open to interpretation. He’s content just to observe the performance as it flows in and out, expanding and contracting on a loop and following the passive melody of his own breaths… in and out and out. He’s warm and thinks how easy it would be to just stay here entranced by it.

It’s not like the effects of Weed, he thinks. Jughead had dabbled once or twice – it wasn’t uncommon for a joint to be passed around the tents during happier more relaxed times with The Serpents. He never dealt himself of course, but Pea and the younger guys had a little more experience In that area. _‘“Gotta test the merch man, part of quality control…”_ it just made Jughead hungrier, although he did find stories about pineapples much more hilarious.

This experience, now, was more other worldly and on a deeper level, spiritual even. He was more a cynic than most and wouldn’t usually go in for all that holistic stuff – chakras, and energy and all that…he thought it was just, well, fraudulent. But, this, well, maybe this is why people chose to take the hard shit, was this what ‘coming up’ felt like? It was so…nice. Maybe there was something in all that alternative healing stuff. 

_So nice, maybe I’ll just stay here, lie down for a while._

He conceded willingly and let it slip him deeper under with each cycle, pulling him down. _Bliss._ That was the only way he could describe it.

In addition, there was this internal warmth engulfing him that he couldn’t switch off from. But again, it was definitely pleasant. The source was a spot on the lumbar region of his spine. The sensation twiddled like a ball of white energy. It was not a burn or a searing heat but just comforting, like chilly hands holding a warm milky drink. It was soothing. It journeyed slowly up caressing each vertebrae, before flowing back down in the same steady inhale and exhale of the patterns and colours painting the backs of his eyelids.

It would be all too easy just to let it take him. Just, shut off – sleep.

After all, when everything around you is gone there’s nothing left to fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A pretty short chapter from Jug’s point of view. I thought it would be interesting to figure out what he might be experiencing - not sure if he’s still with this world or what.   
> If you’ve ever had cranial sacral therapy before some of this might be familiar to you... also I’ve never touched hard elicit substances so I am purely speculating with that comparison...   
> hope you enjoy. Please read on as he will gain some sort of awareness and there’s a lot to untangle.
> 
> Comments and constructive help always welcome 
> 
> Thank you lovelies xxx


	6. This Could Be a Movie , Maybe It’s Our Final Act…?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just to confirm his fears, he reaches his hands up out and in front of his face. No more than a few inches away, there’s the ceiling. He hits it “hello!” He shouts “HELP! I’m here, can someone hear me?!” No one comes. He shifts about and wriggles; “HELP!” there’s not enough space to turn over, but he is vaguely aware of something moving and rocking underneath him, and the scratchy polyester fabric rubbing on his back. He shifts and shuffles down and this time his bare feet find the wall, and he knows it’s metal because the cold stings . He kicks at it as hard as he can, given that he can’t bring his knees up, it’s no easy task. He does it again, then a second time and third and fourth and thrashes at it desperately. He tries shouting again and kicks at the sides and keeps going. Someone will come, he hopes over and over in a mantra. This can’t be it.

This Could Be a Movie , Maybe It’s Our Final Act…?

He opens his eyes and gasps. The air is stale, and worn. He’s stiff as a board and lying on his back. There is a tightness in his chest like a belt wrapped around under his rib cage and he can’t seem to take a big enough exhale and so the next inhale is strangled and cut off. It’s like there isn’t enough air to go round 

He blinks again and again, trying to ascertain if his eyes are actually open and working. It’s too dark to get his bearings. Instinctively he brings his hands up from his sides and crosses them at his chest, trying to reassure and relax himself. As he does so, he butts his elbows against some sort of barrier on each side. He winces and curses at the jolt. Tentatively his right hand reaches sideways to explore the perpetrating object. It’s cold to touch; some sort of metal or steel…His breath picks up and as he bangs his hand against it, and the clang echos and vibrates around him. Desperately not wanting to, he reluctantly traces up and down. It’s a wall. There’s one on the other side, and his anxiety rises in time with his hands as he comes to the gloomy conclusion that the walls also have a roof and he’s enclosed.

Just to confirm his fears, he reaches his hands up out and in front of his face. No more than a few inches away, there’s the ceiling. He hits it “hello!” He shouts “HELP! I’m here, can someone hear me?!” No one comes. He shifts about and wriggles; “HELP!” there’s not enough space to turn over, but he is vaguely aware of something moving and rocking underneath him, and the scratchy polyester fabric rubbing on his back. He shifts and shuffles down and this time his bare feet find the wall, and he knows it’s metal because the cold stings . He kicks at it as hard as he can, given that he can’t bring his knees up, it’s no easy task. He does it again, then a second time and third and fourth and thrashes at it desperately. He tries shouting again and kicks at the sides and keeps going. _Someone will come,_ he hopes over and over in a mantra. This can’t be it. After what could have been five or fifty minutes, with a mix of tears and sweat stinging in his eyes, he tries one last time. Then, finally, there’s a ‘clunk’ and he scrunched his eyes up, his pupils adjusting, and watches the line of light draw a diagonal line over one corner of the box, or tomb, and over him as well. He’s gratified by the rush of fresh air that fills his nostrils. He can see the light, literally, at the end of the tunnel now and shuffles his hips forward. It’s pretty tiring but after a few more shuffles his feet emerge and then a couple more pushes and his feet find the cold floor The top half of his body is still virtually horizontal, and his back pinches at the odd bend in his spine and lack of support. His toes curl into the floor for grounding and then gravity takes over getting the rest of him out. He’s unbalanced now and the weight of his torso, and the fact that he still can’t sit up, causes his bare knees to buckle to one side and he falls out into a crumpled pile of limbs on the floor.

The next thing thing that happens is he feels someone, and he can tell by how petite their hands are, not as strong as him, trying to haul him up. It’s _her_ , and this version of her looks heavenly. Crouched down to his eye level, She’s clad in a pale mauve stiff pencil skirt and white crisp shirt. She looks like she’s power dressing, especially with those patent court shoes, and professional; so out of place. He feels pride and awe and a burning desire to kiss her, but is quickly snapped out of his thoughts.

“Quick we gotta get out of here” she says with a whispered urgency, and before he can think of any words she’s got him on his feet and is tugging him towards the door with their fingers interlaced. She’s his very own personal Agent Cooper and he’ll just follow her lead.

“Betty, what’s going on?” He asks. She doesn’t explain but only seems more determined to get him out of there “don’t look back” she says her eyes fixed on him. But of course, now she’s said it, it’s all he can think about. Jughead’s blood runs cold at the sight of rows of steel drawers against the walls, harsh lights overhead and he’s now acutely aware of the overpowering smell of antiseptic. One of the drawers is open.

The air goes out of him and breathily he asks her if they are what he he thinks he knows they are. He’s stopped dead in his tracks and so she turns to him; closing the gap, although not nearly as close as he’d like. She puts a hand to his cheek and he leans into the softness of it. She smells like marzipan and vanilla, and they fit together like forgotten puzzle pieces. “I will explain everything, but right now…that,” she pauses and leans her back towards the room, “that isn’t Important. Do you trust me Jug?”

His answer is immediate and without a flicker of hesitation “with my life”.

Betty doesn’t let go of his hand as they sneak out of the room. He’s in a hospital, he knows that for sure now. He registers the clinical white Vinyl flooring and corridor stretching seemingly endlessly out in front of them. It’s dark though, like it doesn’t need to be well lit and accommodating-maybe because not many people, alive ones anyway, need to be down here. There’s a dado rail along the walls and doors and he clutches onto it, propping himself up and his legs have gone to jelly. Everything looks the same, but this Betty however seems to know intuitively where she is going and after a few hundred yards she diverts him down a junction and into another corridor. It’s odd there’s no security, or other staff for that matter, and they make it through swipe entry doors with no issues or effort required. She reassures him by squeezing his hand every now and again, but she’s hesitant, wary, and noticeably on guard.

They duck behind a pillar into a little alcove just before the staircase, and he’s sure he can hear footsteps. His heart is pounding in his chest as he comprehends how close their bodies are, near pressing up against each other in that lovely all to familiar way he remembers. His breaths become heaves and laboured and he swallows. All he wants right now is to take her in his arms and kiss her but there are more pressing issues at the moment and, as if she’s on the same wave length, she looks ups at him and puts a finger to his lips whispering “jug…don’t.” He understands and begrudgingly composes himself enough to wait for the next instruction – when the coast is clear they’ll be heading up those stairs; and they’ll be totally exposed then if someone spots them there – it’s now or never.

They wait for the footsteps to fade and, after one more quick check around, Betty pulls him towards the stairs and they make their ascent. She pulls him in through a fire exit and immediately the alarm sirens sound around them. Betty is prepared for this apparently and a quick swipe of a card, it stops and they step outside. 

“Ok…,” he chuckles and lets go of the breath he didn’t know he was holding. “That was insane Betty” she smiles and nods at him knowingly. “What the fuck though…” he breaths and runs his hands through his soft raven hair, pushing it out of his eyes and looks around - it’s just tall trees lining the back wall of a semi-deserted car park. She gives him a knowing wink and proceeds to flash a fairly well constructed ID card “well let’s just say our friendly Ms Dr Curdle-Junior can be very persuasive”. Jughead reaches out to inspect the card, impressed. “Not bad, you can’t even see the join where the photo’s been doctored, although I can’t believe Dr Curdle-Junior’s date of birth…? come on, there’s no way he’s 37, I was always sure he was like 70!”. The two teenagers tried not to laugh out of respect for their unhinged, but oh so helpful, absent colleague, however the grimaces and smirks soon erupted as neither could keep a straight face.

“I missed this..” said Betty once it’s clear her sides had stopped aching. She instructs him to pick up the plastic bag on the floor against the wall and he’s elated – inside theirs black jeans, a grey ‘S’ t-shirt, flannel shirt, boots, suspenders and of course his signature beanie. She’s always one step ahead, she really has thought of everything. He wastes no time in ripping off the hospital gown, not caring that he’s outside exposed to the elements and any unsuspecting passers by that might so happen to be around. What does bother him though his Betty; she looks away? “Come on Betts it’s not like it’s anything you’ve not seen before…or uh, do you just not want me distracting you from your mission?” He says with a cheeky smirk as she tugs his jeans up over his hips and reaches down for the t-shirt. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, you know..?” she replies with her back to him. “Uh, no I ‘don’t know”…” Jughead answers. He carries on getting dressed before coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her and nuzzling his face in the crook of her neck. He swears he hears her make a satisfied hum sound, and he feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “I’m so glad you’re ok,” he whispers, lips still pressed to her skin and hugging her tiny little waist tighter to him. She responds by turning into him - arms up in front of her body putting up a barrier, but still wrapped in his arms, and their lips meet. It’s short and sweet and he tries to deepen it; his mouth trying to mould to her lips, but she’s distant and it’s not easy like he remembers.

Now that they are alone and seemingly out of whatever potential danger was about to befall them inside the building, It suddenly dawns on him again what sort of state she was in the last time he saw her. It unnerves him and he releases her. “Betts, I mean you are ok right…” he says quickly and holding her by her shoulders to assess for any damage.

“I think I should be asking _you_ that” she says with a playful poke at his chest.

He’s still flustered “I mean before you were… they were… I don’t get it”. He pulls back and takes her in and then nods at her stomach, asking permission to look under her shirt. “Can I?” Betty looks at him puzzled and slightly irritated she lets him know where she is “Jughead…this isn’t the time or the place for any of _that_ , so no.” She’s pushes his hands away and takes a step back and the rejection knocks him back. “What? no I wasn’t gonna… I’m sorry it’s just, I needed to check”.

“ Juggie?” He voice is softer now and more concerned for him “I’m ok, see. I think whatever it was your worrying about was a dream, ok?”

‘I’m sorry… I, It’s just this isn’t right…I don’t even know how we got here? What happened?” He can feel himself getting more and more anxious and notes the urgency and familiar rise in pitch in his voice that happens when the walls start to close in.

She attempts to snap him out of it, “Come on we’re already taking too long… it isn’t safe here.” She starts busying herself picking up the now plastic bag and looking around, and checking the door is still locked. She starts walking off and gestures for him to follow, and he does but the questions keep coming.

“What do you mean we’re not safe, Betty this doesn’t make any sense…I just want to see… I, you were… we were at an appointment and, and there was this man with a knife…”

Betty tries to hide her frustration, but isn’t aware she’s actually speaking the words out loud. “Oh for gods sake”, she scoffs under her breath. “what Jughead?...seriously, you’re not making any sense… clearly you hit your head or something during that fight? ” she says firmly, stopping with her hands on hips and lips pursed. Annoyed.

“Well yeah I guess I did but… no, no No I don’t understand it happened… he finds himself getting animated and claws his hands in frustration trying to latch onto something and pull an explanation out of the air- “it was real…” he looks down at the floor and kicks at the fallen leaves gathering on the pavement. He decides to follow her but he just can’t shake this feeling that something just isn’t right.

“Come on, I know this place, that’s the medical records building… the car should be down on of these side roads. I just need to find the right road…” Betty walks on briskly with purpose.

“ Betty come on, we need to talk about this.. please” he pleads with her.

“I know it, I think the road’s… it’s just up here…”

“Betty talk to me. I need something to make sense please…” he strides up and walks in front of her, blocking her path. “This sounds crazy, I don’t know…, but you were, you were pregnant and then, he, there was blood and cutting, and…” she cuts him off abruptly not wanting to listen to anymore crazy talk and the turn of conversation making her uncomfortable.

Betty shakes her head at him in disbelief and narrows her eyes. “OK, ok Jughead listen to me –I’m sorry but it was a dream,” she sighs “I don’t know where you’re going with this but I, Literally. Have. No. idea. What. You. Are. Talking. About? Pregnant, god Jug really? Can you hear yourself…?How did that even happen – immaculate conception perhaps?...”

“Huh?”

She stalks off in front of him again, clearly in no mood for this.

“We’ve never had sex, and I’m pretty sure you need to be together to conceive, ugh never mind, look there’s the car”.

_What the hell?_ He can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“I’m sorry when were we not together…”

“you’re unbelievable…” she says looking up at the sky “I’m not doing this right now…ok, _you_ don’t get to do this right now…” She’s walk around to the drivers side of the black SUV. “You gonna get in?”

He does as he’s told and sits next to her, however he isn’t going to let this go.

“Do what, Betts… talk to me!”

“No! This isn’t fair, look I still have feelings for you so that’s why I’m here, ok. It’s done. I’ve done my bit… you’re safe. That’s it”

“We’re not done…I love you. I always will”

“What happened to ‘until it sticks’ then huh? She says looking out the window and averting his gaze, although she can feel it burning into the back of her neck. “You saw to it, we are not together and you got what you wanted…and now you are coming out with all this shit? It’s just not possible. I’m dropping you off at the safe house and then I’m done!”

He can’t believe what he is hearing. How can she sit there and say they aren’t together? In what universe did the past four months not happen. Yes they broke up, he remembers that night vividly and it still haunts him how he treated her – abandoning her alone, late at night, with no way of getting home, outside the Wrym with the most pathetic explanation ever. The following weeks were some of the worst periods of his life, up to that point at least, but they found their way back to each other and now, in his mind, had been closer than ever. But this, this was false on so many levels and he found himself resenting the person in the car with him. Whatever this was, whoever she was, she wasn’t his Betty.

“I’m sorry” he whispered “You won’t hear another word about it, but I do have to ask where are we going?”

Betty wouldn’t confirm anything concrete it was just a vague “you’ll see”. He didn’t press her further, he knew this was going to play out in such a way that he couldn’t control so what was the point. If it was all a dream then he would wake up sooner or later. The sun was just starting to set, it would be getting dark soon and he pondered if they’d need to drive through the night to complete the journey.

For the next sixty minutes or so he watched as the dusty deserted roads at the back end of the hospital building turned into, industrial estate and then wide open highway. The billboards were resonating with him and he couldn’t escape the sense of deja vu; adverts for all sorts from video games he’d read about or played at Archie’s to real estate and the small town mechanic shop in Toledo where his dad took the bikes to be serviced when they stopped off there. He couldn’t push back the niggle in his head that none of it really fit with the landscape; no real recognisable landmarks – everything just looked too generic. Just setting a scene with props and a back drop on some low budget production. There were diners and chain stores he’d seen a hundred timed scattered at the side of the roads, but no road markings as such or location signposts. Come to think of it, he couldn’t even say which hospital or which town he was even in. But, really it all seemed irrelevant and sort of out of focus. He looked over at his, apparently now, ex-girlfriend whom actually was perfectly in focus compared to the background. She was still beautiful, and every inch of her was accurate and as he remembered; from her flawless bone structure to the shimmer in her golden hair and the cheeky little line of freckles peeking out from under her shirt collar. She was perfect.

He continued to feel uneasy, and the option of opening the door and just rolling out into the road was starting to look very tempting – might be the kick he needed to wake up out of this. But he stayed put. As if by reading his mind Betty asks “would you like to drive for while?” _Yeah right, he thinks – drive where. I don’t know where I’m going so how are you supposed…_

…And that’s when it hits him. She doesn’t know where she’s going either - because _he_ doesn’t know. He’d already decided that Hell would have to freeze over before he’d roll over and accept the fact that probably the single best night of his young life had simply not taken place. He can still remember her perfume, the peach lace under his fingertips, the way she tasted, their combined nervous energy electrifying the room and how terrified he was sitting on that couch pouring his heart out and hoping those words wouldn’t be too little too late, afraid he’d already lost her.

“Stop the car, I’ll drive” he says and it’s not a request.

An exit conveniently appears and Betty pulls over into a side road and up off up onto an unmade track. There doesn’t seem to be any one else around for miles. The engine rumbles to a hault and she keeps a tight grip on the key in the ignition for a few seconds, taking deep breaths and lost in thought. “Did you ever love me Juggie?”

“Betts, why are you even asking me that? This is what I mean…of course I did and if this were real you’d know, there wouldn’t be any question”.

In his head he’s been formulating an idea, slotting pieces together and joining up the dots. It turned out the skills he’d acquired from the hours building murder boards were transferable.

“I don’t understand…”

“Please don’t take this the wrong way but… and I’m really taking a leap of faith here with this… but this is where I’m supposed to say “it’s not you it’s me” and you’re supposed to tut and roll your eyes and probably hit me, but in this case it’s true. I think you’re some sort of a projection. It’s like, my subconscious is presenting as you. Riot night I was going out of this life, I knew that but I wanted you to save me. I don’t know why I was in that mess back there and I don’t have a plan after… so therefore you don’t know where we’re going…”

“Ok…”

He hits the dashboard, hammering home the point, “but look see you should be arguing this point because, really it’s nuts. But look…you’re not because I’m right and I can admit this stuff…it’s the reason we’ve been doing loops in the same stretch of road for the last hour, but that’s because I don’t know where we need to go. We are stuck in this limbo. The scenery, the car it’s all just background. We did break up, you’re right and I’ll tell you what I told you before, I’ll be apologising for the rest of my life, but I swear to you we are together. I think…, it’s like I’m seeing things I want, a future, but also everything I’m afraid of losing…”

“This is a head fuck and a half…”

He chuckles and shakes his finger with the point he’s making “you see, that’s something I would say not Betty. She, you, don’t cuss”

“So to clarify, what you’re saying is that I’m not really here and your aren’t taking to me right now…but In fact this is internal dialogue with your sub conscious…”

“Unfortunately… yes. And the thing is I’m scared that if we or I don’t find a way to break through to the outside and pick something out that’s real, we’ll never leave here.”

‘But Juggie if this is true and you aren’t physically here anymore than I am, where are you really?”

Jughead takes a long inhale “I don’t know really,” he says resting his head back in the seat “but Im certain that Betty will be the one to find me, it’s just a matter of time”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok this was a doozy to write... and it still feels very much like the wild card. Several rewrites in the making to come to this point. 
> 
> I had an idea and I ran with it. I guess I’ll have to wait and see if the gamble pays off with how I get together what comes next. 
> 
> As always, happy to receive comments and thanks for continuing to indulge me by reading by messed up creations lol 
> 
> Xx


	7. Can’t Have History Repeating Itself Can We?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The slap was her knee jerk reaction, hard and the stinging after burn lingered. She was livid. Must have touched a nerve there, good, he thought. He grabbed both her wrists with both his hands, now positioned shaking up in front of her chest. “She loves him and loves her and should be all that matters”. Alice doesn’t respond, and he’s more than happy to just watch while the comment sinks in, and he releases her with a little more force than necessary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you are enjoying it - a little Falice angst for you all. 
> 
> Working on chapter 8, will try and get this out later in the week. 
> 
> Love to get comments and suggestions.

Can’t Have History Repeating Itself, Can We?

Betty was snuggled up under a brightly coloured Afghan blanket. Her head ached and she was struggling to keep her eyes open. Looking at her phone was oddly comforting and heart breaking at the same time. It went without saying that she cherished the pictures filling her camera role of the two of them, but the chemical response happening inside her was conflicted. On the one hand the oxytocin rush was there from the butterflies she felt looking at them in happier times, and she knew she’d never love as hard and as madly as she did with him. But then she was also being slowly crushed by the stress hormones and threat response of realising that this may be all that she should have left of him… well possibly not _all_ of him… but she couldn’t face that particular future right now.

Perhaps a welcome disturbance right then, she was distracted by an altercation taking place on stairwell outside. She could hear them before they even go to the door.

“I’m just saying you, you’re not thinking straight, FP… please”.

“For the last time, just leave it Alice, it doesn’t concern you”.

Her boyfriend’s father entered first, allowing the door to swing back at Alice. If it wasn’t for her quick reflexes shoving her heeled boot through the gap, she would have almost certainly dropped the two untouched cups of takeaway coffee she was carrying.

“No but it concerns Jughead…” Betty’s eyes went wide at the mention if his name and she felt the instant painful pang in her sternum. The tension in the little yellow room was palpable like a mist had followed them in and she didn’t know if FP would dissolve into a puddle or burst into flames at her mother insinuating that he wasn’t considering his own son. Betty herself felt repulsed by the notion.

Betty attempted to deliver nonverbal pointers to her mother to back the hell off; words mouthed like “shh” and “don’t”. But never one to take the hint, she persisted.

“I think you just need some time, you know… it’s dangerous they’ll be expecting this right, you’ll be walking into a trap…”

Betty could sense his patience was wearing thin. He was pacing now with eyes glued to his phone alternating between furiously tapping out messages to trying to dial and speak to someone. She could practically see the cogs whirring in his head; no doubt a plan was afoot. But he was torn between going out there, and leaving his boy. There had to be a retaliation, there was no way in hell the Serpents wouldn’t want to avenge Jug, and even less chance FP was going to roll over.

“At least wait for him to come around huh, you need to know he’s ok…?” Alice was behind him now, a tender hand on his shoulder. However, unlike downstairs earlier, he didn’t welcome it and shrugged her off before stalking over to the kitchenette area and bracing himself facing the worktop. He dug his nails into the surface and bent his head down his breaths heaving in and out shakily. Holding back.

“And how long do you think that will fucking be…?!” He exploded. “What exactly do you think I should be doing Ali, come on tell me…, hey, I know.. “ he says sarcastically, pulling a cup out of the cupboard and smashing it down on the worktop. “Tea helps, yeah and uh how about a little light reading to pass the time away…?” Next the once neatly perpendicular magazines are scattered across the floor, all the while the phone beeping away with new updates. 

The phone rang and quickly he picked it up. “Yep – ok, so we’re a go? Yeah? Ok… 30 minutes – yep meet you outside.”

“You’re going back out there aren’t you?” Betty sighed. It wasn’t so much a question as a statement of defeat.

“This is the way kiddo” FP had calmed for moment, he couldn’t direct his anger at Betty; she was the one good thing in Jug’s life, and as much as it made Alice uncomfortable, it was kind of nice having her around at theirs. “You, tell that boy of mine… well, you know – I don’t have to tell you.” He planted a quick kiss on the top of her head and prepared to head towards the door. Alice was blocking it, arms folded.

He let out an audible exhale deep in his throat, “Get. Out. Of the way, Ally…”

“No!” She pushed him back with two hands. “I won’t let you do this, that boy has already had his mother walk out on him… you think this is such a brilliant idea right now but what about after, huh? what about Jughead?”

“Don’t… “ he says biting his lip and trying to get around her “Don’t push me”.

“Do you think he’ll want this…?” She’s pleading with him now, closing the space between them. “Do you think he’ll want his dad off getting into god know’s what? Don’t you think he’ll be wondering where you are…?”

It was like pulling the pin out a grenade; everything he’d been holding in, too afraid to let pass his lips and admit came screaming out in a flurry of animated rage and shaking fists. The red mist had well and truly descended.

“Shit…SHUT UP! You shut your god damn mouth, Ally. He’s my boy, my son… not yours. And right now he’s lying there with his fucking guts hanging out and he doesn’t know what fucking century it is, let alone worrying about I’m up to!”

“I’m sorry…” Alice was trying not to tear up now and trying to backtrack, but the assault continued.

“Hell… they could be carting him down the morgue any minute and… “. “You don’t know that FP…”

“NEITHER DO YOU!” He screamed.

Betty, who had been silently trying to shrink into the lining of the couch, suddenly shot up; hand over her mouth “oh no, oh my god! I’m gonna be sick!”. She darted into the bathroom and slammed the door. The flash of Betty running in her peripheral pulled Alices’s attention back to her daughter. “See,” shouted Alice walking over to the bathroom “now look what you’ve done…” after couple of knocks and an ear to the door with no answer she tried to reassure her daughter through the door, “Betty… honey, that sounds pretty rough… are you ok?”

She wasn’t sure if it was the image taking route in her brain after FP’s little rant or something else; more biological or hormonal, that had caused this desperate evacuation of her stomach contents and to make matters worse now her mother was there, too close again. She wished she’d just go, wished everyone would just go so she wasn’t being suffocated. When she was sure there wasn’t any more left to get out, she wiped her mouth and sat back resting her back against the door and hugging her knees. “Go away mom…” was all she could manage. There was a tiny smidgen of her that wanted to go back out there, and yet she pushed it down – no Alice would know what was up and she didn’t want her mother to see her cry.

“HA! See…!” He hissed back mocking her tone. “Well at least there’s one Cooper that isn’t full of Bull! Even she doesn’t want you here, dripping poison into her ears.”

Alice wiped her eyes, she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing the effect he had on her. “And just what. Is that supposed to mean?”

He had now decided to lean against the wall next the window and was busy scanning the parking lot and high way a few blocks over for new arrivals. He took out a pouch of tobacco and set it down on the sill and started preparing a roll up. “Oh, I think you know – w, why are even here anyway, Ally?” She gave him some line about supporting her daughter, he rolled his eyes and packed the pouch back in his breast pocket, placing the roll up behind his ear, and then she commented that she could tell how broken up Betty was about Jughead and how she cared about him too. But the mention of his son’s name angered him, and the snake bit back. “Oh fucking pleeese,”he leered stalking towards her in a menacing way “you couldn’t wait for something like this to happen. You never wanted your perfect little girl to have anything to do with my Southside son. All because he’s a fucking JONES! You know it and I know it…”

She tried to answer but the words wouldn’t come. She was shocked and so what did come out was a rambling mess. “I, we, that’s, how can you…” again he cut off, tired of excuses. “I bet you were relieved right?” He let his words hang there, piercing and full of spite “couldn’t wait to prove you were right, to say _told ya so_. Did you need to come and see for yourself, check he was really dead… can’t have history repeating itself can we?”

The slap was her knee jerk reaction, hard and the stinging after burn lingered. She was livid. _Must have touched a nerve there, good,_ he thought. He grabbed both her wrists with both his hands, now positioned shaking up in front of her chest. “She loves him and loves her and should be all that matters”. Alice doesn’t respond, and he’s more than happy to just watch while the comment sinks in, and he releases her with a little more force than necessary. 

“I’ve got somewhere to be. Don’t you dare follow me!” He leaves, making sure to slam the door behind him.

****

FP stood outside Riverdale General leaning up against the ‘Smoke-free Site’ sign in defiance. The first drag was like a weight lifted, and he felt is shoulders unknot slightly. He exhaled up towards the heavens. It was one of those beautifully clear nights and the stars were all visible. The cold breeze was refreshing compared to stuffiness of inside and the claustrophobia causing him to sweat. Of course that could also have been the close proximity to a certain person, and not just the heating. 

“Hey, can I bum one of those?” He looked up to see no other than Fred Andrews boy holding out his hand.

“Didn’t think you smoked,” he replied and tossed him the pouch and lighter.

‘“Well, Mr Jones, there are a lot of things I didn’t think I’d be doing until tonight”

“You need a ride?” He asked.

“Yeah, I got that covered, thanks”. The young Bulldog turned around at the rumble of over twenty bikes entering through the gates behind him and lining up through the parking lot.

“Right then”, the King chuckled, let’s fucking do this!”


	8. In Limbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alice looked up and steeped herself, the tears had stopped now. “Hey, look at me hmm” she shook her head and firmly grabbed her daughter’s shoulders “you don’t believe that, ok, Jughead is going to be ok- you’ll see. He’s a Jones. Hey, trust me they’re made of stern stuff, ok?”
> 
> ‘Yeah, I hope your right” Betty nodded and wiped the well-used and crumbling tissue to her eyes, “he’ll come through”, and she was all too aware she was trying to convince herself just as much as her mom of that fact; perhaps there was some stock in the theory, she thought, that If you lie about something enough you’ll actually start to truly believe it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one is a bit angsty, but I’ve thrown in some mummy-daughter stuff for good measure- having spent a lot of time waiting around in hospitals I know what that limbo feeling is like. Hope you like it, more Jughead stuff on the way soon - already working on the next two chapters - and of course there’s what went down on the battlefield and aftermath of that. 
> 
> Hope you are enjoying it so far. I’m just going where the story takes me (hmmm someone else said that...)Comments and suggestions and kudos mean so much to me. Thank you for continuing to humour me :) 
> 
> Xx

In Limbo

Betty emerged out of the bathroom after what felt like hours curled up around the toilet seat. She had started to feel a little better now, and the splash of water on her face had refreshed her just enough to help her feel more human. She’d been biding her time, waiting until she knew the coast was in fact clear and the yelling had subsided. It would have been too awkward for her to impose on their private… whatever it was. She froze in the doorway and watched her mother for a few seconds; she was perched on the edge of the couch and there were scrunched up tissues littering the side table, not having made it to bin. She looked older and more vulnerable and Betty immediately felt sorry for her. Her usually perfect eye makeup was leaving inky tracks down her cheeks and her complexion was red and blotchy where the foundation was no longer covering the hyperpigmentation.

“Hi,” Betty said in a whisper so as not to startle her. She sniffed back tears herself, reverting to feeling overwhelmed “mom, it -it’s ok.” Betty sat down and took the crumpled tissue from her mom’s hand and replaced it with her own squeeze. Mother and daughter exchanged a small smile at each other in acknowledgement of the small gesture.

Alice tried to compose herself a little so she could speak, rubbing at her eyes again. “I, guess you uh, heard all that,” she said with a tremble “Betty, I- you have to know…what he said, there’s no way…it's not true, I would never… you love jughead…”

Betty cut her off, shaking her head, looking down at their hands, and wrapping her arms around her “shhh no mom, its ok, I know, I know, and …FP didn’t mean it, he’s just angry and scared. I’m scared too mom, I’m so scared…” she was tripping on her words and it would be all too easy to just let it all come out right now; her worries about jug, about their future, her guilt over not catching Hal until it was nearly too late. They didn’t generally do the ‘hugging thing’ and the close quarters was providing an odd sense of security.

“I’m sorry mom, about dad, I’m so sorry I thought I’d figured it out but I left it too late …” she held on tight and allowed herself to relax whilst her mum rubbed her back. “No honey, no don’t. Why are you sorry? It’s me, I should of seen it sooner. I wasn’t brave enough to leave your father, and maybe if I had…things might not have turned out…well turned out like they did”

Betty came out of the embrace and looked at the floor sniffing. It still didn’t seem real, like she was watching someone else’s life. “how could you have known? He was- he was just _dad_. I remember he taught me all about air filters and how to t-cut a car, he drove me to ballet recitals and helped Fred fix the treehouse when me and Arch and Juggie…” then she began to sob, the damn was broken now with just his name. Everything was just relentlessly free flowing, and she fell back crying into her mother’s shoulder” and Jug oh god! He’s… I can’t do it Mom…I think I might be…I might be…” _oh god Betty you can’t even say the word can you?_ it was there on the tip of her tongue and she could already sense the upcoming disappointment, and the inevitable lecture started to play in her head, and yet she didn’t really know yet herself for sure. She felt her mother slightly stiffen and so skillfully she changed tract “I might be losing him”.

Alice looked up and steeped herself, the tears had stopped now. “Hey, look at me hmm” she shook her head and firmly grabbed her daughter’s shoulders “you don’t believe that, ok, Jughead is going to be ok- you’ll see. He’s a Jones. Hey, trust me they’re made of stern stuff, ok?”

‘Yeah, I hope your right” Betty nodded and wiped the well-used and crumbling tissue to her eyes, “he’ll come through”, and she was all too aware she was trying to convince herself just as much as her mom of that fact; perhaps there was some stock in the theory, she thought, that If you lie about something enough you’ll actually start to truly believe it.

“Sure, here you better look after this” She reaches over to the arm of the sofa where _his_ beanie was resting and Betty gratefully took it with a smile, held it tight and brought it to her chin briefly. Her eyes closed and a tear fell onto the fuzzy wool. “Oh, I’m sorry I was going to make you some tea, you feeling any better Honey?” And with that Alice was up and quickly busying herself in the kitchen. She made quick work of finding a cupboard with boxes of fruit and herbal tea. “Ah lemon and ginger, that should help settle your stomach” Betty wasn’t really listening now, choosing to occupy herself with her phone – the messages were coming in thick and fast asking for updates, tagging her and Jughead together and leaving tributes. It was sweet but too soon. She could just make out her mother in the background wittering on about what other treasures were left in the cupboards, no doubt from earlier relatives with loved ones staying on the ward, trying to fill the silence while the kettle boiled and tea brewed.

“Thanks mom”, she said, taking the cup carefully and taking a sip. She was genuinely grateful for the hot soothing water and the ginger supplied a warming hum. She hadn’t realised how parched she was and, in addition, it was a good palette cleanser. “I don’t even know what time it is”

Alice glanced at the clock outside the door. ‘It’s a little after 3am” she reported. _Oh, is that it?_ Betty thought it must have been getting closer to morning by now. It felt like they had been waiting in this room forever.

“I haven’t heard anything else yet - but, I think no news is good news, yeah?”

Betty didn’t reply and instead held the cup a little tighter and took another thimbleful to her lips. It was eerily quiet in the room and in the corridor. Alice, again broke the silence.

“What’d you say we head home – just for a couple of hours or so…?”

“No”, Betty said, almost choking on her tea and not computing the audacity of her mother in that

moment.

“It’s just a couple of hours Honey. You can brush your teeth, freshen up, get some clean clothes and maybe we’ll come back when you’ve got some food in you and had a reset and, you need your sleep sweetheart…”

“No”, there it was again, deadpan and flat, “no, I’m not leaving Jughead”

“Sweetheart…”

“I said no, mom” she was slightly taken back at how quickly she snapped back, “He’s all alone. There’s a perfectly good bathroom here – I know I’m quite familiar with it – and this couch is fine.”

“Betty, it’s not good for you…”

“No. I mean it, I’m staying. Jug’s my family and if you really want to be helpful you can come back with my fresh clothes and toiletries and stuff… plus” she paused and lowered her voice to no one in particular “i’m due on and I don’t have any supplies with me.”

That did it. ‘Right, yes. Well if you are so set on staying then I’d better make a move”

“Thank you”. Betty set down her cup and reached for the multicoloured afghan blanket she had been snuggled under earlier, hoping it would be an effective cue for her mother to know she wanted to be left alone. 

Alice sighed, “At least you look like you’re going to try and get some sleep”. She walked over to her sleepy daughter and placed a kiss on her forehead, before gathering up her coat and bag. “Stay off your phone. I know you and Dr Internet… I’ll see you in a bit.” She blew her a further kiss and walked out of the room.

_Just get some sleep, yeah right like it’s that simple._ Betty heard herself say sarcastically In her head. She let out a quick exhale and wriggled down under the blanket, burrowing herself further under the comforting weight of the heavy fabric. She hugged the beanie to her tummy. Actually, she was desperate to get warm; the physical fatigue had set in from her body’s intense response during the panic attacks and she was cold down to her bones, and every muscle was feeling heavy. Typically, in stark contrast, her mind was wide awake and over-wired. She weighed up the possibility of getting up the courage to move; about flinging back the blanket and searching the corridor – maybe she’d find a well-meaning member of staff and get a status update on him. However, she was just so tired. There were multiple internal battles going through her head, rippling and spreading to the surface from somewhere deep inside; _wasn’t it her duty, as his girlfriend, to be harassing any clinician she could get her hands on? Why wasn’t she out tearing in and out of rooms searching for him – he must be in recovery by now, right? What kind of a girlfriend did this make her if she opted to just stay where she was? Selfish? Uncaring?_ She was the only one left to be there for him now; everyone else was at home or facing different demons on the battlefield. The guilt of giving up was overwhelming because it proved she was letting him down, and yet she was conflicted because in all honesty what benefit would there be in her getting more involved; she understood she wasn’t a medic, and the sad fact was that there was literally nothing more she could do herself to improve his physical outcome. Nothing she did was going to put the brakes on whatever inevitable was just around the corner. It was all so terrifying, and she dared not to look too far ahead and attempt to project anything, choosing to stay nestled under the blanket and stay safe in the now. Various imagines and possibilities flooded her thoughts and she tried to hold onto the positive ones – where Kirsty would pop her head around the door with a smile and report that the surgery went well and there would be no lasting damage and that he was awake and asking for her. They’d fall into each other’s arms and cry and laugh and kiss and then leave this place. Then they’d head home via a drug store and get home, find out together and he’d hold her hand and… but Dr Lewis’s words from earlier rang out and cut through; “internal bleeding”, “CT Scan”, blunt force trauma to the head”, “collapsed lung”… it was a nightmare she couldn’t wake up from. She had no direction and was stuck in this limbo. 

She squeezed her eyes tight and felt the hot salty tears spill over the side. Slow _deep breaths, Betty._ she steadied herself and attempted to make the out breaths longer than the in breaths. Still clutching the beanie to her stomach, she let the fingers on her other hand gingerly walk down lower on her abdomen, feeling the little dip just below her that he told her was sexy and liked to fixate on was now a touch more pronounced – a product of her dehydration. Her hand then travelled lower, and she let it come to a rest just under her waistband. She allowed the small smile that played on her lips – barely there- and the little feeling of hope that bubbled up with it. Sooner or later there would be other questions she needed answers to, and a whole set of new worries to focus her attention and energies on. She wasn’t prepared for any of this and she hoped the morning would bring some good news or, at the very least, a new perspective. The waiting was undeniably the hardest thing to take, and she pushed down hard to supress the worst thought of all – what if he was gone by the morning?

After too many cycles of breath to count and a mind that absolutely wouldn’t let her be, Betty succumbed. Who was she kidding, she thought, there was no way in hell she could shut off; well not on purpose anyway. The breathing exercises had proved futile and counting sheep was useless as well. She rolled over and reached across over the arm of the chair to retrieve her phone from her coat pocket. She could make herself useful and do some research. One thing that she would pride herself in was her attention to detail and how she always ensured her work was the most comprehensively backed up with lock-tight evidence. She would fact check her sources for credibility. She was like a dog with a bone with whatever the chosen subject and borderline obsessive. She’d developed an uncanny knack of knowing exactly which specific words and word order she should use to be rewarded with just the result she wanted to see.

The minutes ticked by and before she knew it she’d seen the minutes tick past 4am, 5:36am and now it was 6:18am. There may have been pockets of sleep, unintentional and caused by exhaustion, but she couldn’t be certain. She had filled her brain with facts, snippets from articles from medical journals she didn’t understand and patient stories. She learnt patients were put into medically induced comas to protect the brain and accelerate healing - it was especially beneficial if there was any inflammation. It was uncertain whether patients were able to hear what was going on around them, but there were account of patients waking up and remembering music and their loved ones reading to them. This was reassuring, and she put a mental pin in it for later reference. Some had described it as being in one long rambling dream or like watching an old TV set that kept reverting to static between scenes. Unfortunately, the reports on the duration of time it had taken to come out of the comas had a wide range; some patients were back within days and others took weeks or months. Some developed an epilepsy disorder and would need to remain on anti-seizure medication for the rest of their lives, some had to go through neurorehabilitation to learn everything from how to speak and recover their fine motor skills to how to walk and swallow. 

She made herself familiar with the procedure of an explorative laparotomy; she knew why it was done and the ins and outs of what was involved. She’d made a point of scrolling past the complications section and anything that looked like statistics or survival rates and avoided anything where there was an inkling the patient hadn’t made it.

She wanted to know about any potential long-term effects of a cardiac arrythmia and how best manage these. It was speculated that there was a possibility that this could actually have been a pre-existing condition that was picked up at the time of the trauma. It could be down to genetic factors or a birth defect that ran in families. She was thoughtful about this; she was sure Jughead had never mentioned anything about any health conditions or hospital visits, however she didn’t really know much about his early life (other than he had been bounced around from foster home to foster home and his mother was pretty much absent), and they’d never had any need to discuss his or her medical history before. This of course opened another can of worms, and she made a mental note that the idea of having children with him someday had indeed crossed her mind and one day they would need to explore this stuff deeper. This spurred her on to start looking further into her own symptoms.

Around 6:52am the sunlight started to trickle in and Betty cursed herself at not managing to get any real rest. After she had looked up symptoms of shock and panic disorder and, eventually, when she grew braver early pregnancy, she had fallen down the rabbit hole of websites talking about two week waits and pre-menstrual symptoms and how they could mirror pregnancy symptoms. The women on the forums were so hopeful and meticulous recording their symptoms; from cramps, to cervical mucus, to tender breasts, non-tender breasts, mood swings, vomiting, exhaustion, dizziness, heightened sense of smell, no sense of smell – quite frankly it was a confusing minefield. Betty was surprised at how many turned out to be nothing and ended up with negatives after so much hope, positive comments from other users and reassurance and how ironically some of the women with hardly any symptoms who were sure they were out of luck that month had ended up with a BFP (Big fat positive).


	9. Thank You for Showing Me There’s More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She reached into the bag again and this time she picked up the soft canvas block – his wallet was still heavy. She opened it and discovered he still had a decent amount of change and a few dollar notes. At least the Ghoulies were ‘honest thugs’ and didn’t rob him as well as beat him to death. In the zip compartment there were two dogeared movie stubs for the Bijou – the movie was American Werewolf in Paris (double feature). Betty smiled at the memory of his birthday date; he’d stolen most of her popcorn and kept his arm around her for the duration of both films, even though his arm had gone dead a mere twenty minutes in. He had chuckled when he said he “never pegged her for for an American Werewolf kinda girl” and she’d winked and said that’s where he was wrong. She remembers after the movie she spied an old fashioned photo booth in the reception and she couldn’t believe he was crafty enough to keep it from her after all the years he’d worked there - so of course she had practically dragged him in there by his ear, and he’d protested and tried to wiggle out of her grasp to no avail. But soon enough they were in there and he was more than content to goof around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one’s a bit fluffy (I wrote it after getting back from a family wedding). It’s pretty much all Betty, but she’s going to find out just how much she means to Jughead. 
> 
> Hope you are enjoying it still. I always appreciate commend and suggestions- this writing thing is very new to me. If you think the work should get a kudos then I am always grateful,for these also. 
> 
> Thank you xxx

Thank You For Showing Me There’s More

A knock on the door jolted her awake – she hadn’t even realised she’d fallen asleep - and she quickly swiped up on the phone to clear the page and search history. She was relieved that no one had come in, perhaps whomever it was had seen her sleeping and thought better than to disturb her. Betty slowly peeled herself off the couch – her jeans felt clammy against her thighs and her mouth felt pretty disgusting to be honest, as there was no tooth brush to use after she vomited earlier. Her whole face felt greasy and her makeup was flaking and causing her eyes to itch. Now that she was upright, the usual sense of seasickness hit her; _yeah I think I need to take better care of myself today._ She acknowledged. The kitchenette was indeed equipped and stocked well. Betty settled on a bowl of coco pops and a glass of milk, something she grinned at knowing her mother would certainly not approve of it as a balanced diet choice to start the day. Jughead, however, would be proud though. If there had been Poptarts that would have been the icing on the cake. Next she was tempted by the jar of set honey. There would be no toast, since the hospital fire regulations had seen to it that all toasters were banned from staff and patient kitchens. Therefore it would have to be bread and honey.

“Well that’ll certainly get your sugars up” Betty turned away from the worktop and saw Kirsty standing in mint green scrubs, her unruly, fiery red curls tied up in a bun.

“Oh, hey – yeah, I thought I’d better try and consume… something” Betty replied, carrying the tray to the dining table tucked against the wall.

They exchanged pleasantries for a couple of minutes and Betty said that she was doing as well as could be expected when Kirsty enquired. “Ok, well um… do you know when the others are back?”

“Um…”, Betty tried to remember if any plans had been set before they left her last night “my mum went home and I don’t know where Jug’s dad is”

“Right” Kirsty said with a pause, she seemed to be re-considering what she was going to say next “I actually came in to give you these and a little update”. She set a white carrier bag down on the arm of the couch. “It’s um, these are Jughead’s clothes and some things that were on his person when he came in – I thought you might like to get him some fresh clothes, take these home for a wash, also…” Betty felt her heart fill up with relief and Kirsty obviously noticed the smile that spread across her face. _It’s safe to go home. He’s going to need clothes so he must be ok. “_ He’s been out of surgery for a while, we kept him in recovery to monitor him as he was still on high dependency oxygen and being intubated,” Kirsty continued “it all went well. I think they were just getting him set up on ICU, I had to see another patient so I haven’t been back yet, he’s still under… but I can come and get you a little later if you feel up to it? Oh and the consultant will want to catch up with you all a bit later”.

“I, uh. Oh-my-God yes thank you,” Betty squeaked out, she was so elated she was fidgeting in her chair and it took everything she had to hold back the urge to run over and wrap her arms around the friendly stranger “I wanna see him”

“Ok then. Um- give us say thirty minutes or something like that so doctor can finish their ward rounds and handover and I’ll come back”. Betty simply nodded and the smile was up to her eyes.

Kirsty left to see to a patient and so Betty picked up the pace with eating her breakfast. She decided to switch the television set on that was hanging from a bracket on the wall. She wasn’t at all interested in the good morning tv presenters; they were getting far too excited about the latest breakthrough cosmetic treatment for age spots. It was completely unimportant and irrelevant, but there was at least a clock in the bottom left of the screen so she could count down the minutes, and Betty’s phone battery had run flat. 

Betty tentatively investigated the contents of the white plastic bag Kirsty dropped off. She avoided pulling out the scrunched up, mud-ingrained flannel when she saw the blood stains. His jeans were just the same. His white tank was in better condition She took it out and brought it to her face, breathing in his scent that still lingered; woody, tobacco and mint but now mixed with a metallic chemical smell. If anyone looked through the peephole and saw her now she was sure they would judge her for looking like a crazy person. 

She reached into the bag again and this time she picked up the soft canvas block – his wallet was still heavy. She opened it and discovered he still had a decent amount of change and a few dollar notes. At least the Ghoulies were ‘honest thugs’ and didn’t rob him as well as beat him to death. In the zip compartment there were two dogeared movie stubs for the Bijou – the movie was American Werewolf in Paris (double feature). Betty smiled at the memory of his birthday date; _he’d stolen most of her popcorn and kept his arm around her for the duration of both films, even though his arm had gone dead a mere twenty minutes in. He had chuckled when he said he “never pegged her for for an American Werewolf kinda girl” and she’d winked and said that’s where he was wrong. She remembers after the movie she spied an old fashioned photo booth in the reception and she couldn’t believe he was crafty enough to keep it from her after all the years he’d worked there - so of course she had practically dragged him in there by his ear, and he’d protested and tried to wiggle out of her grasp to no avail. But soon enough they were in there and he was more than content to goof around._

Betty carefully took out the little roll of snaps tucked away in the window section of his wallet. The print was starting to fade and the corners were curling. _In the first snap she’d grabbed the back of his neck and laid a smacker of a kiss on his cheek, and he had a face on about the whole ordeal of being in such a cliche. In the second picture she had upped her game and jumped on his back assaulting him with tickles and kisses to his neck. Jughead was caught with his eyes screwed shut and absolutely in hysterics. He’d got her back in the next pick; he’d caught her off-guard and tilted her back and gone for her neck like he was going for her jugular, she was giggling. He made a point to leave a mark too. The forth and final picture was them cooling off from their attack on each other; it was a side profile shot. They were pressed up close to each other. He had his arms around her waist and she had hers around his neck, they could have been dancing, with foreheads touching and not being able to keep their eyes off each other._

Betty gently thumbed the photo roll and then returned it to its rightful home inside the window, being ever so careful.

The next item to come out of the bag was Jughead’s phone. He’d had the same on since before Freshman year; an early version iPhone with a mere single figure memory capacity and shoddy camera. He was always getting ribbed about it, particularly by Veronica and Archie. They would insist it was a piece of junk and he should just get a new contract and upgrade, that it was about as much as use as an old flip phone because the software was so dated it couldn’t update the apps any more. But, stubbornly, Jughead had insisted he wouldn’t part with _old Clive,_ as he named it. He had saved all summer to buy it and he would keep it until it died a death. He was absolutely not materialistic or wasteful, and Betty always admired that in him. He never had much, and certainly his parents couldn’t just hand him things on a platter – he never had the latest gadget or fancy trainers, and what he did have he knew the value of. 

Unfortunately the beating had taken its toll on poor _old Clive_ as well. The black case was separating away at the side and the screen was cracked in a spider web of chipped and jagged glass in several different directions. It appeared to be still working but was slow and hesitant with its processing. It upset Betty greatly to look at the lock-screen; it was one of her favourite pictures of the two of them. _It was taken at Homecoming; she was so proud to be on his arm that night – he looked so handsome- and he had been practically bursting with excitement and happiness to be, seemingly, accepted Into the Cooper clan. The parents meeting each other was an important step, he stated. However it was somewhat tainted, Betty recalled, by her mother’s agenda on digging up dirt on FP. They’d snuck away from the merriment of the dance for a few minutes for a quick cuddle and private chat on the bleachers, and he couldn’t stop staring at her. He told her she was the most beautiful and special thing to him. He told her that his hopes and dreams used to be pretty simple; a safe home and a warm bed and enough food in for him to make sure he had enough to make a meal for Jellybean and, if he was lucky, himself. He’d explained that he’d learnt to accept that he was unimportant in their world and that people just saw him and said ‘Jones boy’, ‘snake In the blood’, ‘will end up a drunk and never amount to anything – like his father and father before him’. He had begun to believe that he had nothing to give and that once he was in the life he’d be stuck with his lot But that was before she decided he was worth teaming up with, before she’d put her faith in his abilities and given him a chance. It was before she’d seen him, really seen him. It was before he’d made that impulsive decision to grab the ladder from the side of Fred’s garage and climb up and through her window and showed her how he really felt about her – and, to his pure delight and relief, she’d kissed him back and smiled. He said she had shown him there was more. From then on he allowed himself a little piece of the dreams everyone else held onto._

_Unbeknown to the, Kevin had followed and had caught them and demanded a ‘Bughead’ photo for his Facebook. By this point Jug had taken off his blazer and his blue button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and suspenders were on show. His eyes were a captivating stormy blue and they were both smiling softly; utterly content being together. Jughead was resting his head on her shoulder._ It was a blissful snapshot in time where they were totally oblivious to the madness that was about to unfurl that evening.

The cracks in the phone had tracked right through their faces; mockingly teasing at their current separation. Betty typed in the pin; her birthday, naturally. She found that many of the apps were not operating properly. The messenger was frozen and wouldn’t open at all and the photo app attempted to load but then none of the drop down menus would respond to her tapping. Betty felt her eyes growing hot and noticed her vision blurring in front of her. A single tear fell onto the screen. She couldn’t lose their photos, their memories. The music app opened, to her surprise, and, although the playlists were displayed, they were stuck on the menu screen and wouldn’t populate. She was intrigued by the names; she was sure he wouldn’t mind - perhaps he’d think her nosiness endearing – ‘daily why ever not’, ‘oldies but goodies’ and ‘dark&angst’. The last one made her heart skip a beat – ‘for Betts’. One way or another, she vowed, she was going to get this damn thing working again.

Betty set the phone down on the table and finished her bread and honey. She noted the battery level – low power: 20%. She knew she’d have to grab the laptop and charger when she went to the trailer, along with his change of clothes. She tapped the home button each time the screen went black; it was much nicer to have their picture looking at her, even if it was cracked to hell. However no sooner had she cleared her plate to nothing but crumbs, she was met with a hot rising sensation in her chest and she had to bolt to the bathroom before the contents of her stomach were ejected violently. She was sick three more times in the space of ten minutes. Unfortunatelythis was all just as Kirsty came and knocked on the door. She was trying to be helpful and had brought Betty’s floral-print weekend bag – courtesy of Alice Cooper – and thought Betty might appreciate some clean clothes and her toothbrush. So that’s how the kind nurse discovered Betty; sitting next to the toilet bowl, legs splayed to one side and flyaway strands of hair plastered to her face with sweat. “Hi Betty, um I brought you some things… your mom dropped them off, but she’s gone again now. I’m sorry,” she looked down at Betty before sliding the bag further into the bathroom and out the way with her foot. She knelt down to her level, with a tender hand on her back. Betty gulped. She really didn’t want to be interrogated again right now; no matter what good intentions were behind it. But to her surprise, Kirsty didn’t judge her or question her, no, she simply acknowledged that Betty wasn’t quite ready to leave yet to see Jug and may need a few more minutes. On her way out she said quietly “Betty, if you need me to get you anything or to talk about _anything_ that’s what I’m here for.”

“Thanks, I might just take you up on that at some point today” the young girl replied.


	10. In the middle of the ride, everything will be just fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thing about dreams is occasionally one finds themselves in one that they are so convinced is real that they relinquish all control over their actions or free will within it. They must simply go with the motions and get swept away by it. One can only watch as they commit adultery, crime or other unthinkable acts they would never ever consider or fathom they could be capable in their real life, and then suffer the consequences and backlash of such actions. 
> 
> This however was not one of those times. He had already established that way back before even getting out of the car that this was another ‘jughead projection’ dream. If he wasn’t already utterly positive of that fact, a little thing like defying the laws of physics certainly reiterated it for him. Not to mention the continuity and factual errors and the fact he had gone back in time to being thirteen again. And with all that certainty came a confidence to orchestrate and manipulate.

In the middle of the ride, everything will be just fine

He wakes and now he’s in the backseat, head resting against the doorframe and juddering along at the bumps in the road and Alice’s haphazard steering. “Urgh” he groans and startles slightly. Assessing the upholstery of the inside of the car door and Tortoiseshell trim under the window, he’s taken back to 2015; the last time he was in the familiar old Station Wagon. It was an evening he thought he’d pushed back into some recess in his mind, and yet, no, his subconscious had decided now was just obviously just the right time for a re-run. If it wouldn’t of warranted an Alice Cooper scolding, and didn’t fell horribly inappropriate in front of twelve year old Betty, he would have cursed at that moment out loud and not just in his head” _for fuck’s sake”._ He was pretty sure he knew what was about to play out. Maybe, he muses, if he’s smart about this he can figure out a way to have a do over for this ‘ _ghost of Christmas past_ shit’

Betty’s voice was light and fluffy “hey Juggie,”she’s practically bouncing with excitement “we’re almost there, come on wake up”. It was hard not to be taken in by her candy cane sweetness, it was infectious.

The car swings around to the right and through the parking lot gates. It’s pretty quiet, save for about ten or so other mom cars; all nice, a mix of middle class Volvo saloons and SUVs. Why did Betty have to drag him to this thing anyway, not that he had much of a choice back then – that weekend just gone his mother had just up and left and taken Jellybean along for the ride; _“It’s too much FP, I’m not having the social involved again… you do nothing to help, you think you can do a better job, be my guest!, I’m overwhelmed…I’m done, I can’t take it. ”_ he remembers the words and accusations that stand out the most as he sat in the bathroom against the door hugging his knees. He’d watched her minutes earlier, feeling shocked and scared, hastily shoving clothes into a suitcase. Jelly had sat and wailed at her Lego being snatched away and added to the already crammed full case. He’d begged and pleaded with his mother, he said he’d come too and said he was sorry for whatever he’d done or hadn’t done, that he would be a better son, a better brother. He’d gone to pack and then, when she just ignored him, he’d blocked the door. He’d cried and collapsed to the floor when she’d pushed him out of the way and run into the bathroom after her. _I’m sorry kid, your dad thinks I don’t love him and I don’t love you and so it’s better if I just go…”_

Therefore of course his father thought a preteens back-to-school dance was just as good as any other activity to palm him off for the evening. Everybody just wanted him out of their hair.

Alice had reluctantly agreed to take them both, she’d even picked him up from the drive in – not the trailer though, no, that would involve venturing into the actual grounds of the trailer park. Betty was done up of course; her hair pulled into a chic high ponytail with not a strand out of place, her new Chuck sneakers were freshly washed and whitened, only on this occasion she wasn’t pairing them with pastel or jeans but instead she’d worn a dark halter neck skater dress. It was short and adorned with blue, purple and crimson watercolour flowers. He recalls and cringes at the memory of how embarrassed he’d gotten at his reaction to her made up and dressed like that; the unfamiliar and unnerving churning in his stomach and the hot flush of crimson spreading up under his collar at the time. Up to that point he had been used to seeing Betty’s legs, but usually they were grazed and bruised and she would be in shorts or dungarees; much more appropriate for making ‘wild’ animal documentaries, which consisted of neighbours’ cats and birds, dogs and the occasion nonplus hedgehog with her borrowed camcorder. They were also great for forth of July hotdog eating and scaling trees to get a better view of fireworks..

Today, however, she wasn’t just his best friend she was his best friend who was most definitely also a girl – and at thirteen years old that was when he first knew he had a crush on Betty Cooper.

She hopped out of the car and skipped round to his side to pull him out. He humoured her and got to his feet. She always thought she was stronger than she was. “Thanks mom, we’ll call you when it’s finished, but we might get a ride with Arch and Mr Andrews?” She called back to her mom as she took his hand in hers and continued gleefully towards the building, her ponytail swinging.

He, in comparison, continued to pout and drag his feet. If she hadn’t already captured one of his hands they would most certainly have both been shoved deep into his pockets.

“Hey Juggie, come on it’ll be fun, ok? And, if anyone gives you any trouble they’ll have me to answer to” she looked so funny waving her fist around when she said it- like anyone would be scared of an angry pint-sized pixie…he giggled to himself. “What’s funny, hey I can take care of myself” she replied, arms folded and pouting. “It’s nothing… you,” he cleared his throat “I can take care of _myself and you”._

It is during the next few minutes that eighteen year old Jughead is brought back to some semblance of reality and realisation. He ponders the scene laid out before him and concludes that this is indeed what sometimes happens in dreams; when one is trying to recount the events and chronology of the previous night’s slumber upon waking. It can be perceived as several unconnected plots & stories playing out one after another before coming back to the beginning again. Another way to look at it would be jigsaw pieces of the same group of puzzles, with the same characters but just not quite tessellating correctly.

Betty and Jughead enter the building, a generic standard industrial unit, through a completely unremarkable panelled door. It’s the ‘night light’ lighting he notices first and then the faint sound of running water. The two assistants at the counter look up but seem unconcerned at their arrival and go back to pouring over pages of their motor racing magazines. The two friends look out onto floor to ceiling rows of fish tanks. Every background in every tank is royal blue and glows under the fluorescent tube inside. He was transfixed for a few moments as he couldn’t remember the last time he’d even set foot in a aquarium. He marvelled at the school of neon tetras darting about the tank in front of him, suddenly spooked by his presence but keeping in perfect unison. The tank was also home to other types, all just as conventionally pretty; angles, guppies, and various others all boasting bright colours and floaty fins. He noted how the uglier quirkier specimens stayed skulking at the bottom, not wanting to be seen and not belonging with the others. _I know how you feel buddy_ he said to the bristle nose hiding in the diver’s helmet. Of course whilst he was busy comparing himself to a fish, he’d managed to lose sight of Betty.

After, he wandered up the grated metal staircase he noticed a young lad - another assistant of some sort – or maybe it was the one of the same two from downstairs. He was maybe early twenties; bored and couldn’t have been less interested in his chosen vocation. He was stationed in front of an enormous two or three storey high glass box- or was it a tank? Well, whatever it was had a door on the front. He seemed not to notice Jughead, but was happy to wait for the boy to approach him first before allowing himself to be torn away from scrolling on his phone. When he did become aware of the kid’s nearing presence, his response was one without looking up and might as well have been from a tape recorded message for all then enthusiasm he bothered to project. “If you wanna go, man, it’s thirty minutes max per top up of oxy. Tubes are provided and are all fully topped up ready. Remember to breathe through your mouth when using the tube, won’t need it in between”. Then there was some sped up small print about not being responsible for loss or damage to property, and participants did so at their own risk blah blah…

Jughead curiously picked up one of the plastic tubes sitting in a smaller tank next to the assistant. There was nothing particular special about it really; this one was bright blue ridged plastic tube about 3ft in length with a clip and mouthpiece; similar to that of a snorkel mask. There were others of different bright colours and sizes, designed to attract and entice. _Why not_ he thought. Next he clipped the tube into a button hole on his black shirt and brought the mouthpiece to his lips, inhaling through this mouth. The shot of, what the guy called, ‘oxy’ was cold, crisp and oddly refreshing to his sinuses and around his mouth. It woke him up with a ping – like it was laced with an upper. He pushed open the frosted door and stepped inside into the under water hall…

The thing about dreams is occasionally one finds themselves in one that they are so convinced is real that they relinquish all control over their actions or free will within it. They must simply go with the motions and get swept away by it. One can only watch as they commit adultery, crime or other unthinkable acts they would never ever consider or fathom they could be capable in their real life, and then suffer the consequences and backlash of such actions.

This however was not one of those times. He had already established that way back before even getting out of the car that this was another ‘jughead projection’ dream. If he wasn’t already utterly positive of that fact, a little thing like defying the laws of physics certainly reiterated it for him. Not to mention the continuity and factual errors and the fact he had gone back in time to being thirteen again. And with all that certainty came a confidence to orchestrate and manipulate.

He had expected his footsteps to be laboured, maybe even slow motion, whilst wading through the water surrounding him. Instead, there was no extra effort needed to keep him grounded. He didn’t even have to swim – no one else was. Instinctively he made a B line for the other group of reluctant spectators leaning against a far wall, never one expected to enjoy dances or group social activities in general and naturally it was easier just to live up to those expectations than fight them.

There was music, distant and echo-like rather than booming. But it was there. It was a pop song by some auto tuned over produced girl band. Some groups were dancing in their usual class cliques, and he observed the bubbles above them floating skywards. They would take their oxy tubes to their mouths, much the same as one would casually hold a beer or alcopop and take sips whilst dancing or in gaps in conversation. His attention was brought back to his own tube, and a fraction of chest tightening alerted him to what he should do. He took another inhale through his mouth and imagined it was sweet nicotine from a cigarette, which he was partial to once in a while. This was where he felt less threatened, on the outside looking in.

It didn’t take long, his eyes naturally gravitated towards where she stood across the room. Well not exactly standing… more like spinning and bouncing with a slight wiggle of her hips. It amused him how effortlessly alluring she was and she didn’t even know it yet. Archie was there, so was Mantle, and a bunch of girls from their class were fluttering about him, one, Brittany something or other, had draped herself around his shoulders. His other female classmates had made equal, if not more, effort than Betty to dress up for the occasion. But in his eyes she stood out as the most beautiful girl in the room. He thought sadly how Betty looked happier and more energised with them, something that probably seemed so alien to others when they looked at him with her. 

Apparently though, she hadn’t forgotten about him because she clocked him quickly and broke away from the group. And just like that, the volume on the tank’s soundtrack went up to eleven. _Another factual error here,_ he thought _being able to hear anything under water._

She took another inhale from her tube and, with her head bobbing from side to side and mouthing the words of “Shut up and dance with me” , she sauntered over to his little spot in the shadows. Just as she had that night.

“Juggie! There you are… come on don’t stay here all by yourself”. The words left his mouth before he had a chance to contemplate if he should speak or not. “Come on Betts you know junior school dances aren’t really my scene…”

“Don’t do that”, she pouted and he shook his head and looked away “do what?” he sighed.

“Act all older than you are, its not all bad you know. Come on… shut up and dance with me” she sang. “You never know, you might actually enjoy yourself”. She stepped closer and ran her hands down from his shoulders and arms of his black shirt, and it sent shivers through his skin, then with a sharp tug took both his arms, pulled them out if his pockets and pulled him off the wall. It made him chuckle and his feet obeyed. Then she turned around and, still gripping tightly to one hand, led him to an empty pre-selected space on the floor. “Come on…”

‘Only for you, Betty Cooper” he said with a smirk and eye roll.

“Good, I’ll remember that…”

The track changed and the bubblegum pop punk first chords of Jimmy Eat World rang out. Jughead was met with an aching rush of elation and bittersweet nostalgia all at once. Betty giggled and they both shouted excitedly into each other’s faces, instantly recognising the track. It was a song even an outcast like him could get out of bed for in the morning, and he realised he was indeed letting himself have fun bouncing along and happily twirling around with her. They probably looked like complete dorks, but right then he didn’t care a toss.

_Hey, don’t write yourself off yet_

_It’s only in your head you feel left out or looked down on_

_Just do your best, do everything you can and don’t you worry what they tell themselves when you’re away._

The words couldn’t have been more fitting really; telling the all too emotive tail of being isolated and judged, but that it was a ride that will end and everything will be alright… just a melodic rocky blend and an unapologetic infectious groove. It was like his feet had a mind of their own and he was definitely enjoying showing off and pulling Betty in close and spinning her out again.

_It just takes some time little girl your in the middle of the ride_

_Everything, everything will be just fine, everything, everything will be alright alright_

Their energy didn’t wane through the duration of the song, and they only stopped once for a quick inhale to keep going. Jughead even broke out the air guitar in the middle instrumental break, before they were back to moshing up and down again, having now drawn a bit of a crowd. However unbeknownst to Betty, Jughead could see over her shoulder they were also drawing unwanted attention from the shadows. He tried to ignore the whispering and sniggering.

The last drum beats and guitar chugs ended, and the two friends suddenly suddenly found themselves thrown together about two feet apart as the next track slowed things down. Neither of them knew what to say in that situation and he could sense she was feeling just as uncomfortable as him. He recognised the song instantly and swallowed down the dirty feeling and voice inside saying _no no no it’s from the prom scene in that film._ But it was hard not get swept up wistfully in the one, two three time signature and look on Betty’s face, as he urged his body not to sway.

_I was a quick set boy_

_Diving too deep for coins_

_All of your straight light eyes_

_Wide on my plastic toys_

“You, uh, y you look really pretty tonight by the way” He said, suddenly looking down at the floor.

“Thanks Juggie,” she said sweetly “you don’t look so bad yourself”

“Hmm, it was the best I could do “ he shrugged.

“I like it” it was Betty then who made the first move. Her head tilted to one side, asking the question, and he noticed the discreet flick of her tongue over her top lip – something she did subconsciously when weighing up a decision or problem in her head but was nervous. And then she tentatively held out her hand to reach for his. Just as she had all those years ago..

_Then when the cops closed the fair_

_I cut my long baby hair_

_Stole me a dog eared map_

_Called for you everywhere_

Only this time when she offered her hand he was going to take it, without hesitation. This was it, this was his do over. There would not be any sarcasm, no attempts to hide his own insecurity and embarrassment, no second guessing. Dancing with her wasn’t about giving her friends a good laugh at his expense, for some reason she did seem to genuinely like him. He would not take the piss out of her taste in music or film and he wouldn’t leave her hurt and standing alone amongst a room of other couples. If he gave it a chance he’d admit the soft clear voice and harmonies were hauntingly beautiful.

Betty looked up at him from under her eyelashes and gingerly brought his held hand up to place hers on his shoulder. When he obliged, she brought her free hand up to the back of his neck. _Ok Coop_ he thought, _I’ll see your hand at my neck and raise you this…_

_Have I found you_

_Flightless bird_

_Jealous, weeping_

_Or lost you_

_American mouth_

_Big pill looming_

Using the opposite hand he wrapped his arm around her back and grazed the fabric of her dress where it flared out at hip level and, with barely any pressure at all through the very tip of his fingertips, he traced a line up to her waist before pulling her in closer. She squeaked at the move, and he had to remember to keep himself In check and not get too carried away – it was Betty, but not _his more mature_ Betty as her knew her in the present and this could get very weird very quickly. _No, Jones, be a gentleman - PG13 distance…_ even though he vividly remembers his thirteen year old self back then having very different ideas.

They swayed and enjoyed the closeness, both his hand now at the small of her back. Sure, it wasn’t quite dancing, but it was much more intimate than they had been at this age before. Betty tucked her head under his chin and was content to nestle there for the song and just feel his heart beat.

_Now I’m a fat house cat_

_Nursing my sore blunt tongue_

_Watching the warm poison rats_

_Curl through the wide fence gaps_

_Pissing on magazine photos_

_Those fishing lures_

_Thrown in the cold and clean_

_Blood of Christ mountain stream_

It was sweet and for a moment they could have been the only two people in the room. Jughead made a mental note to introduce her to Interview with the Vampire and Anne Rice in general. But for now this was fine. He felt her shift under him and reach down for her tube but instead he lifted her gently up onto the tops of his feet so she gained a couple more centimetres. Then, with one hand supporting and keeping her steady he used a finger to tilt her chin upwards so she was looking right at him and pressed his lips to hers softly. He shared his air with her with a blow into her mouth. The two were aware of the bubbles escaping out and around them intertwining and meandering skywards, he sensed her smile against his lips.

_Have I found you_

_Flightless bird_

_Jealous, weeping_

_Or lost you_

_American mouth_

_Big pill stuck going down_

“I told you I can’t dance,” he whispered in her ear “I wish I could keep you”. She giggled and was about to go in for another kiss but then, of course his subconscious couldn’t let him win, could just let him be happy for one hour could it… In the end his own insecurities about the loner and girl next door would always come up trumps. He was alerted to their sudden unwanted audience by a tug on the back of his head as his beanie was pulled off – _Reggie._

“Hey, asshole, you wanna give that back?” He said without turning around. “Yeah Reggie,” Betty hissed peering around the side of her dance partner “don’t be a jerk”.

“Oh come on Baby Coop”, he said circling around to face them both, “you should be thanking me… mean this thing’s rank and you know, don’t want you catching lice!”

“Your so full of shit, what are you eight?! Betty said scrunching up her nose in disgust, “Well I like his hat”

“Yeah, and I don’t have fucking lice” and Betty looked warily up at him as he said it through gritted teeth, his free hand starting to form a tight fist.

‘Hey, Chuckie catch!” Reggie tossed the hat over to the group that were sniggering earlier. It landed in Chuck Clayton’s lap “urgh gross! You douchebag, I don’t want it!” He got up quickly and let the hat slide to the floor. The girls played along and thought it was hilarious, shrieking and pushing it around at each other with their feet. Archie Andrews did not join in the fun, but he could easily have been trying not to laugh Jughead thought.

“You’re a piece of work, just piss off and leave him alone…” Betty continued.

“Just calling it like I see it babe, can’t believe your still hanging out with this loser” the other boy continued to taunt, plucking in disgust at Jughead’s second hand shirt.

“You wanna say that to my face, Reg?” And Jughead forgot he was indeed smaller than his opponent at this point in his life, but thought nothing of squaring up to him now and putting his body in front of Betty. Reggie scoffed in amusement. “No problem, freak. If you wanna go tough guy, let’s go…”

“Oh stop it! Both of you!” Betty growled, and stepped out of hiding, pulling Jughead by the hand “come on Juggie, he’s not worth it. I’ll get your hat back”.

They walked with fingers laced together over to the main door and stepped out of the underwater room and into a foyer. To Jughead’s surprise when he looked down, they were both instantly soaking wet.

“Oh come on Coop, wait up” Reggie called out from behind and joined them. When he caught up he draped an arm on her shoulder that’s enough charity work for the day. Let’s go and have some real fun huh”. Reggie took her wrist on the other side and tried to walk her in the other direction. “Get off, no!’ Betty said, trying to pry off his grip.

Jughead had let go of Betty’s hand and was pulling him off of her. “I think you’ll find she said no, fuckface!”

The foyer filled up with previous tank occupiers, apparently this was far more entertaining. .

“Relax, freak. I didn’t mean like _that –_ I’m not you, I don’t have a thing for the little ones…” Reggie said with malice and purposefully loud enough for his audience. …‘I mean that _is_ why your mom did a disappearing act with your kid sister, right?” Jughead swung quickly and caught Reggie on the jaw with a right hook. Reggie retaliated after a beat by ploughing into him head first and tackling him to the floor. The two continued to lay into each other until they were both swinging punches and grappling on the floor. It was Archie Andrews that spoke up “seriously Reg, that’s enough now. It’s not funny anymore”

“Like you care, Arch.” Jughead almost spat. Some friend he turned out to be, probably only concerned with how he was going to explain the state of him to his old man when they went home.

The two boys stumbled and got to their feet. “Fuck you Mantle, come on Betts wanna get out of here…?” He was cut off, Reggie took his wind up further “wait, you don’t actually think you and Betty-B here are like a thing, do ya?” Jughead tried to make eye contact with Betty discreetly but his tormentors obviously noticed..

“Oh my god. no way he did, that’s so sweet” said Cheryl mockingly, hand over her heart. “Betty, you need to put the poor hobo out of his misery. It’s not fair to string him along like that…”

Jughead waited for what felt like forever for her to reply, to explain and justify to everyone what they were. That it wasn’t all in his head and, most importantly, that she hadn’t kissed him out of pity. But she didn’t do any of those things, and his heart sank. “We’re just good friends, right Jug?”

He exhaled hard, trying to hold back whatever emotion was threatening to surface and leave him exposed to more torture. He could feel several pairs of eyes on him and see Reggie and Chuck sniggering in his peripheral. He knew how this story ended – with him sat alone outside for the next few hours against the back of, what was the school sports hall, waiting for the minutes to tick down. Then, at the allocated time, he’d catch his lift; get in the car and sit in silence in the front with Fred. Mr Andrews would know something wasn’t right between the three of them and he would not ask. Archie Andrews and _she_ would stay in the back seat. It would be another year before they’d all talk, let alone be friends again.

“Well, that’s one way of getting shot of me!”

“Juggie…” her voice croaked and could see she was trying not to cry. “I’m sorry”

_I’ve seen enough, no more_ he thought to himself and turned and walked away and back to the tank, throwing his plastic air tube on the floor as he went. He really had had enough, he cursed himself for even bothering to pursue any kind of alternative ending. He just needed a big enough jolt or shock to wake him up, and he had a pretty good idea of how to do it.

He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath and placed his hand on the frosted door once more. He stepped inside, and to his relief the ‘hall’ was empty. With none of that special “oxy” taken this time, it didn’t take long for his plan to take effect. He wasn’t sure how best to go about it, but he’d try something. Naturally first, he was reluctant to inhale the water and kept his mouth clenched tight. He held his breath; most humans could last 30-60 seconds he thought to himself, that’s all, and then he’d be out of here.. He tuned in to his heart rate increasing and starting to pound in his ears. Little exhales escaped and he saw the bubbles float upwards, reminding him of anecdotes of the evenings events with her. His tears were mixing with the water surrounding him and slowly crushing him with pressure on all sides. The seconds ticked on, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer before the carbon dioxide levels in his blood had increased to such a level that he would soon run out of air. His body began to float upwards in a warped and unnatural way and without any effort from him. His body was limp. He didn’t thrash or struggle for the surface. There was a tingling numbing sensation in his arms and legs and he begun to feel oddly detached from his body. He didn’t fight it, and couldn’t if he wanted to. His lungs burned from the inside out as he felt the water start to trickle in. His gaze remained fixed at the surface – so near but so far -watching the patterns In the shimmering water. He relaxed and as he got closer he was vaguely aware of a beeping sound going up and up in tempo and getting louder. There was also a voice…

“Betty….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long one. Hope you like... I’d love to hear from people reading this story and get some ideas as to how you would like to see Jughead come back to us or any requests.  
> I live for my comments, kudos, it gives me warm fuzzies seeing the numbers going up - can’t believe nearly 1k! 
> 
> May change the name of the chapter? For ages it was just 10, rushed it...too excited to get this submitted haha. 
> 
> Disclaimer - I own nothing: songs are   
> Jimmy eat world - in the middle   
> Iron and wine - flightless bird American mouth 
> 
> Thanks for continuing to indulge me and for being patient.... chapter 11 in progress, but, as above, open to suggestions 
> 
> Thanks loves xxx


	11. What is our new normal?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you were here…, I mean you are here but like awake and with us, anyway… What is our normal you’d say, and I’d say investigating together. We know this was Penny but I dunno Jug I just have a feeling there’s something bigger at play. Like why go to such extreme lengths to kill off the Serpent Prince. Were you in trouble, Jug?”
> 
> It was about tea time when FP showed up. ‘Hey sweetheart” FP said with his trademark grin and kiss on her cheek. He was sober, so at least that was something. Not that anyone would have blamed him if he did reach for a bottle, given the events of the night passed. But he was somewhat subdued and Betty noticed was also accompanied by extra muscle at the door In the form of two older Serpents, whom he introduced quickly as Dax and Silver. They each greeted Betty with a friendly enough hug before departing back to the waiting area, but she knew something else was occupying the minds of these men as much as hers.

What is our new normal?

Betty stood with her back to the shower spray and tilted her head back as far as was comfortable, remaining still and intensely focused on the here and now; she’d peeled herself off the floor and a shower was next on the list before going in to see Jughead. But it wasn’t long before the racing thoughts, fear and physical factors, such as a sudden drop in blood pressure from the heat and standing upright on a, now, empty stomach, had begun to affect her. Her vision had started to blur again and the floating disconnected feeling was returning. She tried to key back into her physical body and remember the five things techniques from her therapy sessions; see, hear, touch, smell and taste – gotta get the thinking part going again so as not to collapse in the bath. The extractor fan in the bathroom was not working and so she couldn’t really see much in front of her from the amount of steam accumulated from such a long shower. But she did notice the droplets of water sitting on top of her soft skin, not being absorbed like she was waterproof. She allowed her eyes to draw a line from her left shoulder across her collar bone and to her breasts – she observed that they did seem fuller and there was a mark between them from the wire digging in from her new bra, which had fit perfectly fine up till now. She could hear the rushing water and the tapping as it hit the dropped shampoo bottle lying on the floor of the tub. She latched on to the sensation of the hot water hitting her bare skin, running through her hair and down her back and applied a hard pressure massaging her scalp with her fingers from her forehead to the nape of her neck over and over. She was unaware how much time had passed standing in there letting the water run over her, until she heard a knock at the door.

“Betty? Are you about done? Do you want me to wait at the nurses station or stay here?” It was Kirsty.

_Shoot_ Betty thought and quickly turned off the tap. “No, it’s cool I’ll be out in a sec” she called out.

Betty quickly changed into the first items she could lay her hands on in the bag; a pair of pale jeans and a hoodie, and pulled her soaking wet hair into a messy bun. A quick cleanse of her face and a dab of moisturiser and she was somewhat presentable. She pottered around for a few minutes, trying to tidy up a bit and gather together items for her bag. She was procrastinating and Kirsty could see it a mile off. “Come on, no need to worry about the mess. This room has seen worse and it gets tidied twice a day anyway”. She stood by the door, holding it open for Betty and then they both began the short walk down the corridors two abreast to the ICU. “You ok?”

‘Yeah, I’m fine just... tired”

“Betty, I just want to say before we go in, ok… it can a be a shock at first, yeah? But please try and hold in your head that he’s very heavily sedated and everything is being managed medically so they are taking all the precautions and monitoring him very closely.” Betty nodded and took a breath in when they reached the double doors. “I’m going to be right with you and it’s all going to be ok”. She noted the pinboard by the buzzer with it’s rainbow border and pictures of various staff and patients, young and old alike. Some had lost their hair, some had oxygen tubes and some looked fit and healthy, like you wouldn’t guess there was ever anything wrong. They all shared the same sparkle in their eyes and were happy and hopeful. Nailed to the board was a bell on a hook with a string.”That’s the All Clear Bell” Kirsty smiled and explained when she saw her gazing. The card was swiped and a sound buzzed above the doors as they swung open.

As she followed her companion, Betty took in the hive of activity as staff flitted about in a blur, dressed in scrubs and giving quick exchanges to one another of words she didn’t understand. She passed a room off to the side, occupied by consultants and nurses, and could just about see round the door and peek at the large white board filled with names and various notes and short hand; it might as well have been in another language. She noticed a couple of the nurses smile at her softly as she passed the central nurses station. ‘Here we are…” Kirsty stopped in front of the third green door on the left with a narrow glass window panel.

Betty froze with her hands on the door. She couldn’t seem to make her body move. She ached for him and with everything she had, it had been the longest night of her life and she wanted to be reunited with him, but fear had paralysed her momentarily. It was a difficult enough to think about him being in a place like this; that he was actually sick enough to warrant being there, but the thought of seeing what nightmares she’d conjured up in her head as reality was overwhelming.

In contrast from the environment outside the room, his room was filled with a somber silence mixed with only the background whirring and sucking from the ventilator and steady beeping from the monitors. No cards, no flowers no music or background noise – tv was switched off. Under the harsh fluorescent lighting he looked even more pale and she could see his lips starting to chap around the breathing mouthpiece. The black and blue bruises had become a lot more prevalent over his eyes, cheeks, arms – everywhere really. It was like every single one of those thugs had to leave their own fucking stamp. She had to admit he looked peaceful in his sleep and it was a comfort to see the soft rise and fall of his chest. Her eyes darted to and from the wires and tubes going in and out of his skin. She stood at his head and tentatively traced one of the lines from his arm down until she reached his hand resting palm up on the sheets. “Hey you,” she said softly with a sniff and a squeeze of his hand “look at this… I’m… I dunno what to say except I love you and I miss you.”

“It’s not as bad as it looks, I promise” Betty forgot she had been escorted inside “I can walk you through it all if you like? Need to do some quick safety checks anyway and there’s always some stuff that you can do, like caring bits and things…” if Betty did register what she said, she didn’t acknowledge it; lost in her own little world. The nurse continued regardless “so the electrodes on his chest and red & blue wires are going to the ECG machine so we can record the electrical activity in his heart, we’ve got these ones checking vitals, like BP, respiratory rate and oxygen sats & CO2 levels.. the cannula here is so we can administer glucose and antibiotics, oh and this one’s just fluids. Obviously the mouth piece is to help him with his breathing at the moment”.

“Right…,” Betty said closing her eyes to absorb it all “what’s this?”

“Feeding tube and this one’s, “ Kirsty pointed to the one coming out from under the sheet “a catheter, for monitoring fluid output. But I promise you this is all standard stuff and we’ll be able to wean him off a lot of this as he gets better.” Betty didn’t know what to say, and she nearly sat down where there wasn’t a chair. “He can’t hear me, can he?”

‘“Well lovely, we don’t know for sure really. But maybe think about things you can look forward to together and talk about that”.

“I dunno if I can, I thought I wasn’t supposed to get my hope up too high” She shook her head “I’m sorry I just it’s all so much and I, just I can’t think what to say…there’s a lot on my mind, ya know?”

“It might seem inappropriate, but it’s not so much for you as it is for him. He’s got to know he cannot give up”. She pulled a chair over for Betty and gestured for her to sit. “Have you set a date yet?”

“Wh?”, Betty’s breath caught in her throat and she looked over at Jughead, poor guy it wasn’t fair that, if he could hear anything, this was how he’d have to learn of his upcoming nuptials; fabricated or not, it would be second hand information and he probably would have wanted to have some say in it. “No, not yet. He asked me and of course I said yes but he didn’t have a ring yet or anything. But we know we’d like a late fall or winter date…” _where did all that come from, Betty? Sorry jug, just forget it_ she said to herself.

“Ok well I mean, um it’ll come in time I’m sure. We also know that families have had success in getting responses from reading to them, you know, books they like or playing music or…we actually have a lending library out by the vending machine, so you could grab some books from there if you don’t have any of his.” The nurse turned away from checking the extra oxygen ports on the wall and started to chuckle to herself “there was this one patient, elderly gentleman, and his son used to bring in the radio and they’d listen to sports. In fact he actually came around during the Lakers championship game, the son couldn’t believe it. Old man said he never missed a game…” this did incite a little giggle from Betty and she relaxed. The lines & ports were checked, and results were recorded in notes. Betty set herself up a little station next to him facing the monitors and within easy reach of the side table.

“Um.. you said there were things I could do?” She asked and clapped her hands together gently. If she had her way she wouldn’t just be playing nurse maid; she knew how to clean wounds and she’d even somewhat mastered the art of stitches. Ok, well, she thought, it was in scouts but never the less…

“Ah yes of course. So it’s little things but they just help make him more comfortable,” Kirsty’s voice was somewhat muffled as she dug around in the cupboard by the sink and pulled out an assortment of cotton wool and filled up what looked like a baby top and tail bowl. She demonstrated and gave a running commentary of what Betty could do to help, it turned out it actually wasn’t a great deal she could do anyway. It was weird watching another grown adult tending to him intimately like that, Betty thought. “so cotton wool and little dab of water around his lips and the chapstick. His lips will dry out very quickly with that mouth piece and they’ll get sore when he wakes. You could also use it to wipe in-to-out on his eyes… he’s got dressings that need keeping clean and changing , but we’ll be in to help with that twice a day. other things like comb his hair if you like, give him a shave if he needs it. Although, bless him, he still has a baby face so I’ll leave that to you. You could change his bottoms and help with his physio; we’ll need to turn him if he’s got a long stay…” she realised where she could be going with the rest of that sentence and stopped herself “ we need to keep his circulation going and stop the blood pooling in his legs.” She showed the Betty the compression stockings and practiced the massage and exercises with her for his legs and feet. The time went surprisingly fast and Betty relaxed into how easy it was to converse with the woman beside her. She put her at ease.

“Does the offer still stand, you know to get me some things?” Betty whispered.

“Of course, what’d you want me to pick up for ya?”

It seemed a good idea but now I’m front of Jug she felt exposed “Um… sorry do you have a…” Betty waved her hand mimicking a pencil grip to indicate she’d rather write her request, “thanks, sorry it’s just a bit weird right now and.., I don’t want to y’know, if he can hear…” she nodded her head towards her boyfriend as she paused from writing her shopping list. She would tell him, eventually, if there was anything to tell, but she wouldn’t be doing it in here. The other items she would get herself, there was only one that she wanted assistance with; and so it was underlined. “I can get the shaving stuff and comb and bits from his place, but if you can get that please for me please?”

Kirsty nodded in agreement and respectively replied back in the same hushed whispering tones and code, so as a certain someone couldn’t understand. “I can get that from either the pharmacy shop or I can sign it out from stores, but I’ll have to log it, but that’s ok because we can always order some blood tests.”

“Thank you” Betty said clearly and then lowered her voice again “from stores please.”

‘Ok, leave that with me and I’ll leave you two to it. See you later” And with a little wave she left. Betty was again left with only the noises of the appliances for company.

They were alone now. She brought her attention back to Jughead and placed a soft kiss on his forehead line of stitches. She stroked her fingers through his soft curls over and over and the words began to flow like an imaginary conversation. “Hi, it’s me, I’m sorry about that Juggie. By the way it wasn’t my idea, that whole engagement thing, it was your dad. It surprised me just as much but I guess it’s all good because I got to stay... Hmmm, we’ve not really talked about that have we? I’m not trying to rush you or anything, but who knows maybe one day. If you heard any of that you’ll have to give me your take on it when you wake up. God, I thought this would be easier with you not being able to talk but I hate hiding things from you…, I will tell you everything, I promise, but I gotta get my head around it first and I wanna be sure, and you, you’ve gotta get better, you hear me?. I don’t think, no, I know I can’t do this by myself. I wonder what you’re dreaming about, I hope it’s something nice. I hope I’m there. I miss you so much…”

Betty got through the next few hours, keeping busy with her caring tasks and chatting. She valued being entrusted to contribute to his care; it gave her a purpose. She selected a less known Steven King title from the lending library, disappointed for him there wasn’t any Lovecraft or Verne. She thought he’d at least enjoy the conspiracy theory side of it, and it was a lot better than some of the same predictable bored house-wife fluff and smut that was there. The Cell was quietly gripping, but after the first couple of chapters she did find her attention wondering. “If you were here…, I mean you are here but like awake and with us, anyway… What is our normal you’d say, and I’d say investigating together. We know this was Penny but I dunno Jug I just have a feeling there’s something bigger at play. Like why go to such extreme lengths to kill off the Serpent Prince. Were you in trouble, Jug?”

It was about tea time when FP showed up. ‘Hey sweetheart” FP said with his trademark grin and kiss on her cheek. He was sober, so at least that was something. Not that anyone would have blamed him if he did reach for a bottle, given the events of the night passed. But he was somewhat subdued and Betty noticed was also accompanied by extra muscle at the door In the form of two older Serpents, whom he introduced quickly as Dax and Silver. They each greeted Betty with a friendly enough hug before departing back to the waiting area, but she knew something else was occupying the minds of these men as much as hers.

“how’s our boy doing?” He asked moving to the opposite side of the bed, gaze trailing over his son’s sleeping body.

“There’s no change really, Mr Jones,” she replied with a sigh before running through as much as she could remember from the earlier updates on surgery, recovery, scans etc. He thanked her, but clearly wasn’t in the mood for much small talk. 

“it’s good to see you. I don’t mean to pry into Serpent business, but was yesterday useful or did you yield any new Intel on why this happened to Jughead?– I’m sorry… just a bit taken aback at the sudden need for the entourage outside”.

FP propped his elbows on the bed and rested his chin on his fist. “You don’t miss much do you? It’s ok, your gonna be family anyway…” he winked.

“Yeah, we‘ll talk about _that_ later…” she said with a smirk and stroke of embarrassment.

“Ok,” he huffed “Bevis and Butthead over there’re to watch out for Jug, and you. I can’t give you the full disclosure now, but something’s brewing- there’s gotta be other MCs involvement…it’s bigger than just Penny and her merry band of Shitheads. Jug gave himself over, that’s exactly right, but if this was an ordered hit, I don’t get it…” he seemed to be struggling to process an idea, like he had it but it simply couldn’t be fathomable.

“Why would another club order a hit on Jughead?”

“What you gotta understand is the Serpents haven’t been around as long as some of the others. Some were founded decades ago and the Serpents are relatively green. So their’s a level of respect we show to them. Look, we don’t really get into anything hard but we’ve have always had good working relationships with the other MCs, in general we’re small fry and don’t cause them much friction…they keep to their turf and we don’t muscle in on theirs, and everything’s happy days, we turn a blind eye if any hard shit comes to the south side, help out once in a while…but going after another club’s prince says something…”

“So what now? Jug told me what he did to Penny, I thought this was just about revenge… But Mr Jones, I think Jug was onto something else and someone didn’t like it… I’m sorry I should have asked but how do you know the others were involved.”

“Everyone was so charged up after what happened. When I left here we all rocked up to this warehouse, just back from the docks, we know it. Some of the guys knew about some illegal raves they’ve held there and a lot of deals of gone down there previously; seemed as good a place as any to start hunting. It was the younger ones there mainly, no sign of Penny or Tallboy, and most of these kids were off their faces, they were actually celebrating. Anyway we caught a rat, dragged him back and, let’s just say, we got him talking.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all
> 
> I’m so enjoying telling this story, it’s gonna move pretty fast for a while now as things are gonna get intense. I do hope you are all still enjoying it. Would love any constructive suggestions on plot ideas, dialogue etc - I know my writing is quite sloppy. 
> 
> Thanks so much   
> See ya soon   
> X


	12. A whole other world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That was all he knew. The beating had continued, each of the guys needing to vent their anger and frustration for their fallen brother and son. They let the kid off the wall, thanked him for his generosity and then FP had given a brutal running commentary, going through each of the same injuries inflicted on Jughead -broken ribs, shattered kneecap – that one was new and not entirely necessary but he was feeling creative - black eye and finally a club blow to the back of the head with the bike chain. After a good boot stomping, they’d left him bleeding and unconscious outside an ED in Rossdale, forty five minutes away. 
> 
> Betty had sat with one hand squeezing Jug’s and the other up over her mouth for the entire account of the whole gory tale. It was shocking to hear and she couldn’t stop the tears from falling as she once again imagined what her love had endured. He hadn’t wanted to scare the girl, but had gotten carried away and it had all just come out.

A whole other world

Betty listened intently whilst FP explained what had transpired over the early hours of the morning. He didn’t divulge the identity of the ‘We’ that got the ‘rat’ talking, and she didn’t press him. However as it was only the young girl and his son in the room, it seemed to put him at ease and so once he started talking he became unusually loose lipped. What Betty learnt opened her eyes to a whole other world she hadn’t been aware of. 

The particular ‘rat’ they had caught turned out to be, a younger lad, what the Motorcycle clubs would label a ‘hang around’; and that was was just how it sounded- he was a club wannabe, a puppy following them around looking for scraps hoping to get noticed. A “a hang around’ was someone who didn’t have any blood affiliation and didn’t have any association with any other gang. The general rule of thumb here was that a hang around wasn’t obstructed from being around the club; they could hang out in the bars they frequented, buy their drugs, but they were not, per say, officially invited to get involved in member business. If they did then it was of their own choosing and the club offered no protection. Worse still this made them all the more reckless and so desperate to get noticed that they’d do pretty much anything. They’d still have a long way to go to reach prospect status; which was sort of like a trainee member with half a patch, and even then they’d be minding the guys’ bikes, standing watch dog, fetching beers and cleaning up the aftermath of many a booze fuelled gathering for many months before being properly patched-in and owning their full jacket – when they’d earned it.

This boy was about seventeen, younger than Jug, and Sweets said he had recognised him from Southside High a few years back. A lot of kids there came from rough backgrounds. The Southside was in general a deprived area; the jobs that existed there were not secure and low paid, it didn’t attract a lot of outside investment and there wasn’t much for the kids to do so naturally a lot of them fell into the life, and criminal activity was rife.

_FP described with disgust how the Serpents had split up into smaller groups, and of how it had been FP’s group that ended up at the docks and found a party, happy hardcore music blaring out the speakers, in full swing. There were kids packing out the back rooms. Some were obviously completely stoned and just lay strewn about, blanketing the worn out beanbags & couches. Others were completely off their tits; chewing the inside of their mouths and talking a mile a minute, dancing, shouting or in various states of undress. Bottles and pill baggies littered the floors. The air smelled strongly of Weed and artificial sweetness. He could hear the cliques of kids bragging and joking about the beat down they’d attended and how his son had been left for dead. It didn’t take much to lure one of the pill heads outside. The Serpents had a new recruit that night, or a potential anyway- he hadn’t run the gauntlet yet, there would be time for that later. He’d been able to more or less just walk in unrecognised. He wore a scarf over his mouth and nose and a hoodie pulled down low. He’d approached one of the younger ones on the outskirts of the group and asked if he could buy. The stupid fuck was happy and wasted enough to just follow him outside across the yard to the bikes, where quietly FP and the rest of the guys were waiting in the shadows against the side of a shipping container. The new guy had surprised everyone with his quick thinking when he knelt down to one of the bikes, seemingly to be checking out something he’d ‘only just noticed’ in the tread of the tyre, and then shot up with bike chain and padlock wrapped around his hand and brought his fist up in an upper cut crashing up through the lad’s face. The kid was immediately knocked out cold onto his back. They dragged him under his arms to the far end of the shipping yard and, in amongst the maze of containers, found an empty one that was easy enough to break into. The container was barren and dark, with unfortunately nothing to bind a prisoner to, so the group resorted to two of them holding his limp frame up against the wall. His head hung down and lolled off to the side as he slowly came to and groaned, unwilling to look his assailants in the eye. FP had grabbed him by his chin, forcing him to look at him, and the kid winced in pain, his eyes wide like a scared rabbit. “Woah, ok, ok I’ll give you the gear… just le’me go!” He struggled out. Straight to the point, snarling at him, whilst one of his accomplices flicked open the switch blade. “Nah, I ain’t here for that shit. Right now I only care about information, and you… you better start talking. Now I know this wasn’t just a beat down, from the state you left my boy in… and you’ve got no Ghoulie patch so I need to know who the fuck you are and what the fuck are you doing here?” _

_“.i,I.i dunno man…,” the kid panted “what’d you want from me, huh?, I was just at a party with some mates I swear, I’m sorry i’m sorry…”_

_FP narrowed his eyes in frustration. The kid was lying for sure. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s true is it boy? See my buddy here recognises you” his eyes zoomed in on the bulge in the kids pocket and he nodded to his brother in arms. As the object was pulled free and shown to FP, he leaned in nose-to-nose with the kid against the wall. “You always carry knuckle dusters to parties with mates do you?”. He tried it on for size and flexed his fingers playfully, “It’s got a good weight to it, I give ya that…” he said, turning to look the kid in the eye again, before ploughing it into his prisoner’s ribs. “Alright! Ok, ok, ok” he cried, his voice juddering out in sobs and pleading” he coughed and spat blood._

_“Punctured lung… that’s something they said he had,” FP stepped back and removed his jacket, letting it fall to the floor “so that’s for starters. Talk!”_

_“A bunch of us, we got invited, they said there was gonna be a rumble…said it was a test, something about territory, I didn’t know he was gonna be all alone, I swear, man I swear!”_

_“Thing is… I’m not sure that’s enough…Broken jaw…” The kid started to cry, but this angered FP more and he laughed as the next blow hooked round into the side of his face. ‘More”_

_“Kai. Kai said if we did this we’d get patched…”_

_“Who?”_

_‘I dunno, I dunno…” he shook his head “I swear it was all Kai. “Order came from above…”_

_FP was growing inpatient with the drip feeding of information – no smoking gun yet. He gestured to his associate with the blade, and quickly the shirtsleeve was torn away. The tattoo was tacky to say the least; probably a quick impulse flash piece from the wall. It suited a poser, nothing special. As if giving an order the ringleader said “Infected laceration to the arm…” and the scream tore through the night as blade met the ‘ace up his sleeve’ and the blood dropped down onto his browning white skate shoes._

_“Who?”_

_“I can’t rat they’ll kill me..” the boy whispered, looking down at his blood stained shoes._

_“And there it is boys,” FP walked round with his arms stretched out wide for all to see “but if you don’t, you won’t be making it out of this container. Talk, and we won’t kill you tonight…seems like a pretty easy decision to me – now I’m listening”._

_“It was a one time offer. Kai said we had to show respect. We could patch over but yeah, one time offer. Oh god… we had to show where our loyalties lay. Someone’s been causing problems for their business associate, maybe your son… that’s why there was gonna be a meet”_

_“WHO’S THEY?”_

_He shook his head frantically, trembling now. “I don’t know. We wouldn’t know till after the job was done”_

_“You stupid Fuck!” This time it was one of the younger brothers that got in on the interrogation “what about Penny, where’s she fit into all this?”_

_“Wh?” He’d dug the blade in again, deeper this time, and twisted. “Arggghh… I dunno A Penny? Please… “_

_“Penny! Dirty blonde- crazy eyes? RING ANY BELLS! She was there wasn’t she? Was it her that cut off his Serpent tattoo, you must have seen her?”_

_“There was a blonde, older women…she was there “_

_“DING! DING! DING! DING! You seen her, huh, she been around any of the club members? Maybe she visited the clubs – come on you’re not much good to me alive…”_

_“I say we start taking digits boss, if he can’t hold the throttle, can’t make patch…?” The kid looked away as the blade was stroked across his knuckles teasingly._

_“Hang on there sparky,” FP put his hand up to his associate “I think he wants to carry on, that right isn’t it, rat?”_

_The gulp was audible and his voice broke “I dunno about no blonde bitch but some of the guys…. From all the clubs, not just the S…,”he stopped short, still seeming petrified of the outcome of revealing a name “there’s been meetings from some man…a suit, flash car. They call him the man in black”_

_That was all he knew. The beating had continued, each of the guys needing to vent their anger and frustration for their fallen brother and son. They let the kid off the wall, thanked him for his generosity and then FP had given a brutal running commentary, going through each of the same injuries inflicted on Jughead -broken ribs, shattered kneecap – that one was new and not entirely necessary but he was feeling creative - black eye and finally a club blow to the back of the head with the bike chain. After a good boot stomping, they’d left him bleeding and unconscious outside an ED in Rossdale, forty five minutes away._

Betty had sat with one hand squeezing Jug’s and the other up over her mouth for the entire account of the whole gory tale. It was shocking to hear and she couldn’t stop the tears from falling as she once again imagined what her love had endured. He hadn’t wanted to scare the girl, but had gotten carried away and it had all just come out.

It was during the drive to dump their prisoner that FP had time to process the intelligence gathered. The difference between the Serpents and the other MCs. The Serpents were a gang rather than a motorcycle club. Like he said before, small fry. There were different MCs in and around New York and Riverdale; the closest and perhaps most established, and probably most dangerous, was the Silent Saints, operating out of Centreville. The club was founded by brothers in the Hernandez family originally. There were generations of uncles, friends and partners of female family members had been invited in. They were well respected, and in the public eye they were the good guys. Over the years they’d earned a reputation within their community for being charitable and honourable. There were charity fundraisers, organised runs for teenage cancer trusts, they’d helped a local mechanic pay for his mother’s funeral and put their younger members through college. They did favours and offered protection for those whom asked, as long as they were paid back in return. They ran an autospray shop, a front of course for their other business dealings, called Trew Colours. This was the club that FP knew most about, although he didn’t want to entertain the idea that they were involved and it was just speculation at this point. For all he knew it could have been them, or them plus the others. It wasn’t unheard of for patch clubs to recruit from the outside or join forces for territory reasons, but usually there’d be an application. In other special circumstances a member of another club could be invited, but again this had to be agreed as poaching from another club could be looked at as disrespectful. It just wasn’t done to bring a whole club over, just like that, with no probationary period and no donkey work to pay dues. Stakes had obviously been upped and there had to be a catch.

He was interrupted by the buzzing of his phone echoing around the hospital room. “Yeah? Fuck! You’re kidding right? Jesus…, “ he hissed and looked over at Betty and rubbed the back of his knuckles over his forehead “it ain’t over yet. Someone just set fire to sunny side. I gotta go…make sure he’s got a home to come back to. I’ll tell Dax and Silver to stay watch here”. He got up to leave quickly. ‘Oh, and Betty?”

“Hmm?”

“I think you should stay home tonight, you look exhausted, sweet, and I think I’d like a night here with him… you know seeing as I was awol yesterday? Maybe we can take turns huh?”

“Um,” she was hesitant, she didn’t want to leave Juggie but she couldn’t deny that she was beat “sure, Mr Jones, perhaps I’ll see if V and Arch wanna come by too – and I should probably check in on my mom too” _oh and there’s the little matter of that test I asked a nurse to pick up for me that’ll tell me if you’re about to become a grandfather.._ naturally she kept that thought to herself.

“It’s a good job you can’t read my mind right now Juggie,” she said “I’ll be here till he gets back and visiting hours are finished. It’s shit that we can only have one family member stay overnight at a time, not that I’d exactly wanna sure a room with your dad, but you get me... I don’t want to go, I don’t want to leave you but he’s your dad and I think he needs you more than he lets on…” she stroked his hair and told him about the colours painting the sky as the sun was starting to set outside the window and how she missed losing herself in him pointing out the North Star and Orion and other constellations. She was still captivated even though it was like the seventh time he’d shown her. “You’ll be good at that sort of thing” she said tenderly rubbing her lower abdomen.

It was about an hour or so later when she heard a knock on the door and heavy foot steps behind her. Betty was massaging jug’s feet at the time – part of daily physio and circulation routine. “FP you didn’t have to knock…” she giggled and looked up from her work. 

It wasn’t FP.

The one called Silver stood with his back against the door, Serpent jacket on and thumbs tucked in his front belt loops. Betty hadn’t really had much time to suss out her two body guards earlier but from what she could remember Dax was the much bigger of the two and had more visible tattoos, some stretching up to his jaw and covering his hands. She looked at Silver and noted he didn’t seem to have any that were visible. He was tall and was all legs. He had a slender frame and prominent chin. He had silvery grey hair, but despite this she’d have put him at late thirties or early forties. His hair was long through the front and short at the sides. He was clean shaven too, and she imagined he’d be the kind of guy that the others mocked for his attention to his grooming routine – not someone to immediately associate with a gang of bikers. He could have passed as a Cloony look-a-like behind a bank desk. His cologne was dominant and musky. She didn’t know why but his presence made her feel uneasy.

“How did you get in here” she asked quickly, her gaze locked on Jughead directly in front of her. 

“And here was me thinking you would be more polite that that…” he said, and she should feel his eyes on her back as he stepped closer. He was forward and there was no hesitation or warning. Betty was routed to the spot. She didn’t want to antagonise him but he had taken her by surprise; family only on the ICU ward. “I’m sorry, you startled me. I was sure they said family only up here…,” she tried to make light of it but didn’t turn to face him “is something wrong?”

“No, nothing like that. Guy can get bored standing watch dog… plus,” Betty felt his breath on her neck. She knew he was close, and her knees trembled “I was just saying to Dax I didn’t realise you were Jughead’s little bit of crumpet. I thought I recognised you. You’re the one that did the dance at FP’s retirement doo, so guess that makes you a Serpent now too?”

“I guess it does” she replied, as flatly as she could and still not turning to face him.

“Hmm, that ass, i never forget a tight little peach… I didn’t see you much after, so I guess you didn’t fully finish the initiation?” Betty didn’t like where he was going with this. She didn’t move but her eyes began searching around the room; in case she needed to locate the call button in a hurry.

“No, I don’t know.., I’m sorry I think you should go…”

“Shhhh honey. No you didn’t finish the initiation. But if you want I’d be more than happy to oblige whilst you finish that particular task…,” he whispered into the crook of her neck “come on baby, don’t be a tease, you know we take care of our own…and what Junior there doesn’t know can’t hurt him…” Betty could feel the tears hot behind her clenched eyelids and she wanted to throw up when his hand made its way into her back jeans pocket and the other snaked around the front looking for the button.

“Please,” she whimpered “stop, I want you to stop, please don’t, I’m pregnant...” Betty had been clutching hold of her boyfriend’s feet and squeezing for comfort and it was at that moment she felt something. It was like a subtle twitch at first but then she felt both his legs go stiff, kick out and then the twitch became a more violent repetitive shake. She looked up in horror to see his arms were jerking in the same way and his head seemed to be pushing against the restraints of his mouth piece. She could here the beeping of his heart monitor getting faster; and the numbers on the screen confirmed it – 154, 162, 167, 171,178, 183. Silver jumped back from Betty and darted out of the room as an alarm sounded overhead. The crash team ran in.

‘jug?... wh, what is it what’s happening to him, please…” her voice was high and strangled. No one answered her as she was hurriedly ushered out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who are still with me, I hope you are enjoying the story. Thanks for your support and patience as always. I look forward to comments and suggestions of where to take it next. Any scenes you’d like to see or requests.  
> Another chapter in a few days (hopefully, kids and work allowing)
> 
> Take care xxx


	13. A Little B and V Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She picked up on the third ring. Veronica Lodge was on her way back from the mall out of town. It was one of the few establishments open at that hour, and a Lodge woman could always count on retail therapy to lift a mood. She was gutted about Jughead, just as everyone around him was, of course, but this particular mood apparently had been made even more sour by a certain carrot top boyfriend. So she was more than happy to have her driver double back and pick up her Bestie.
> 
> “That’s it,” she stated matter of factly, after Betty had ran through what had just happened “I’m coming to get you, we’ll get Chinese food, hole up at yours and eat our weight in the good cookie dough ice cream (that meant full fat no apologies) because we need it! Oh and If I just happen to break out a jar of Nutella and eat it with a spoon and down a few jugs of mother’s finest apricot brandy I don’t fucking care!– excuse my french”. Betty giggled at her friend, yes, this was just what she needed. But they would have to make another stop first…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve added to chapter 13! 
> 
> A little bit of ‘B and V investigate’ and get ready for a night in. Betty needs to recharge. Don’t worry she’ll be back for Jug in the morning...
> 
> Chapter 14 to follow very soon, I ended up writing way too much for one chapter so had to split them. 
> 
> Thanks for continuing to read the story. Love to know what you all think and as always open to requests and suggestions 
> 
> Xx

A little B and V time

Betty stood in the hallway staring at the back of the green door _he heard me, he heard what I said, he knows, but he was trying to protect me. He’s still in there somewhere – now what’s happening to him- did I do this, oh god oh god?_ Her thoughts weighed down her mind. It was as if everything, from the ground beneath her feet to the people buzzing around her, were all travelling at a million miles an hour – like standing with her back to the tide and feeling the sand being pulled away under her bare feet with the waves coming in- time shifting with it- and she would dig her toes in for dear life to not fall.

She was static.

“Betty?” She heard a familiar warm voice calling her name and suddenly everything slowed and pulled her back in. “I was just coming back on shift… wh- what are you doing out here,” the nurse quickened her pace “what’s happened? And who was that shady guy legging it out of here?” Betty turned away from staring at the door and, without allowing her brain time to catch up and work out if it was inappropriate or not, fell into the arms of her red headed companion. The kind nurse reciprocated and held her tight. She waited silently, a look of confusion over her face as salty tears soaked the her uniform. The girls seemed to be having difficulty formulating and shaping the words with her mouth. Kirsty would wait. It was coming, all she had to do was let it.

Then it all came out in a rush, “he-he’s in there… somethings happening… oh god, oh god, I don’t know what happened, he just started shaking and then everyone ran in and…”

“Shhhh ok, ok calm, down, ok breathe. Alright, you wanna go back to the relatives room and I’ll get an update?”

“No!” She cried immediately, “I don’t want to be alone right now…”

Betty was led to some seating by the nurses station. It was clearly in public view where she wouldn’t be alone, and vulnerable.

“He knew, Jug… I mean up till now there’s been nothing, everything we try and nothing…and then that creep puts his hands on me and the shaking started... You didn’t see his face…it was all screwed up in pain it was like he was desperate to get of it…”, she paused for a moment and took a few deep breaths and the catching sight of the white paper bag that was sitting in Kirsty’s lap, she gestured “is that?”

“What you asked me to pick up? Yes. Now, wait here and i’m going to see what’s happening. I won’t be long.”

After a few minutes she was back; still smiling so that was good sign straight off the bat. “He’s stable again. They’ve given him a muscle relaxant and a bit more sedative. Dr Hameed wants to do another scan and he’s going to have the radiologist take another look at last night’s. They are pretty sure he had a seizure, Betty. But it more or less resolved on its own so that is reassuring….”

“I need to call FP, he said he wanted to come back to do the night shift tonight, but he might want to be here earlier now…”

The offer was there for the hospital to call FP; he was down as next of kin after all, and then she wouldn’t have to do the explaining herself. 

Betty declined the additional offer of any Police involvement and explained she would speak to FP about it instead, although she wasn’t sure how well that would go down given how much he already had on his plate.

“You know what I think you should do,” she asked with a tender hand rubbing her kneecap “do what FP says. Go home. I think it would be really good. Get some distance, some rest. Take a bath. Sleep in your own bed…maybe call a friend round - just recharge for a little while, yeah? Here’s my personal mobile; you can txt me, you can call me and I’ll ring you if anything changes at all…between you and me they’ll be busy with him tonight with tests and scans, and you said it yourself FP was coming to swap shifts with you anyway…” Betty started to protest but was met with a raised hand and a clear statement of fact that, as a medical professional, she needed to listen and take the advice. “You are exhausted, and you are no good to him, or anyone else for that matter, burned out and sick yourself”. 

She took the faint nod as agreement. “Do you want me to go in and get your things?” She declined this as well, and gathered up the white paper bag, burning a hole in the seat next to her, and followed. She wanted to see him again before she called it a night.

“Sleep tight baby,” she whispered with a kiss to his forehead and squeeze of his hand “I know what you tried to do, and thank you…” she sighed and continued, “but I just need you here with me, ok ya hear me? You get better for us – do what they say and let them do what they need to. Your dad’s coming to stay with you tonight and I will be here again as soon as visiting hours start in the morning. I love you, Jug.”

*

She picked up on the third ring. Veronica Lodge was on her way back from the mall out of town. It was one of the few establishments open at that hour, and a Lodge woman could always count on retail therapy to lift a mood. She was gutted about Jughead, just as everyone around him was, of course, but this particular mood apparently had been made even more sour by a certain carrot top boyfriend. So she was more than happy to have her driver double back and pick up her Bestie.

“That’s it,” she stated matter of factly, after Betty had ran through what had just happened “I’m coming to get you, we’ll get Chinese food, hole up at yours and eat our weight in the _good_ cookie dough ice cream (that meant full fat no apologies) because we need it! Oh and If I just happen to break out a jar of Nutella and eat it with a spoon and down a few jugs of mother’s finest apricot brandy I don’t fucking care!– excuse my french”. Betty giggled at her friend, yes, this was just what she needed. But they would have to make another stop first…

She met her in the lobby of the hospital, they hugged and walked arm in arm out to the waiting saloon. She was not surprised to see Dax standing guard at his station on her way out, ever loyal to FP. She was somewhat surprised to see he was alone though. He winked at her and promptly took out his phone. She knew FP would be pissed when she told him about the other one, and that she was heading home without any kind of Serpent escort. However she’d cross that bridge when she came to it – there was no way she wanted to spend tonight, alone, and exposed in that place, not when everything was so fresh and ‘Mr sociopath’ was MIA. The staff were friendly enough, and she felt supported knowing Kirsty had ordered her to go and was just a txt or a dial away if she needed an update at three in the morning, but god did she love Jughead and wanted to be there with him. She just didn’t want to put off the inevitable any longer, and, to be honest, she was starting to feel a bit institutionalised – she hadn’t even opened a window and felt fresh air on her face let alone been outside since _that_ night. Her mind was a whirling vicious circle of conflicting emotions and she took one wistful look back up at what could have been his window above. 

No, she shook it off. She was determined to do this thing her way, in the comfort of her home, and if Jughead couldn’t be there holding her hand then her best friend was certainly the next best thing.

‘Thank for picking me up, “ Betty mumbled as she struggled with the seatbelt. “Hey no problem, anything for my bestie. But B, can I just say, I’m sorry hun but you look like hell on wheels”. _So it isn’t going unnoticed then?_ Betty thought to herself. Her friend gave her an odd look as she tried to swallow back that feeling again. Veronica’s driver had already picked up the take away on the way to the hospital and the smell was overpowering in such a small space. She opened her window.

“Thanks,” she gasped at the audacity of it – but then you always knew where you were with Veronica. “I’m just… “

“tired” Veronica finished “I get that…” It went back and forth for a while; Veronica enquiring after Jughead and Betty’s well-being and Betty trying the rattle off all the medical ins and outs and therapy programmes. Veronica didn’t seem comfortable to elaborate right at that point about anything untoward going on between her and Archie; perhaps she didn’t want Mr Lodge’s employee overhearing, so Betty didn’t push it. 

They turned onto the gravel entrance to Sunnyside trailer park. The site looked deserted. It was eerily quiet, except for a few cracks and pops from the last of the burning embers. A handful of trailers were still standing, FP & Jug’s included to her relief, but other families hadn’t been so lucky; black charred piles of wood and ash were scattered sparsely and they could make out the black jagged and twisted frames of metal doors, stairways and windows that were once homes. She noticed some of the lampposts were torn down and to the far end of the park a generator was still smoking. It was like a war zone, and all survivors had been evacuated. Both girls covered their mouths with one hand, Betty’s eyes started to fill with tears. “Oh my god,” Veronica spoke first in a whisper, her voice breaking “what happened here?” B&V made their way over to FP & Jug’s trailer and climbed the steps, careful of their footing. The lights were off inside. She still had his key from when she was given the personal effects.

When they got inside Betty gasped. The place looked like it had been turned over; the coffee table was on it’s side, kitchen cupboards and drawers were hanging open, papers littered the dining table and the remnants of, what looked like, an investigation board and map of Riverdale were ripped up and strewn across the floor.

“Seriously, what happened?” Veronica asked, her eyes darting frantically taking in the scene.

“I dunno V, but… oh no!” She cried and let go of her friends grip on her hand, bolting for the bedroom “please, please tell me they haven’t taken it, please,” she whimpered. She began searching cupboards and drawers; it didn’t take long there was only one wardrobe in the place. 

“That’s peculiar,” Veronica called from the other room “there’s no clothes, like none at all, in here and the bathroom’s empty. Was FP going somewhere?”

Betty screwed up her lips, in thought for a moment. “Huh? Um yeah – he’s doing the night shift- I mean, staying with Jug for the night…”

“No B, look,” she gestured for her friend to join her in the living room “everything’s gone -jackets, pants, shirts, the shelves are bare, there’s a turntable but no vinyls…and look…” she pointed to a line of dust next to some cds “some are missing”. Next they investigated the kitchen – “beer, gone from the fridge, snacks gone.”

“No, he wouldn’t… ,” Betty muttered under her breath and sighed “oh FP what have you done?” 

“He wasn’t back at the hospital when you left was he?” She asked pointedly. Betty didn’t answer and went back to the bedroom to resume her searching. _Surely he wouldn’t, no he wouldn’t do that to his own son…_ There, tucked away leaning against the underside of, what looked like a child’s, desk was a backpack and inside his laptop. She exhaled in relief and quickly located the charger for his phone and shoved it in the front pocket. She emerged a few minutes later with a bag of his clothes, a few more books and the old iPod that was at the back of his cupboard.

“Let’s go, I’m sure he’s just moved in with someone for a few days, laying low -or you know it could just be he’s packed some bits for the hospital…” _yeah, even though all of Jug’s things are still perfectly where he left them._ Veronica didn’t look anymore convinced, and if Betty was honest, neither was she.

There was one more stop to make before they’d get back to the Cooper residence. Betty huffed as the Chinese food smell wafted over her on opening the car door. Veronica had insisted or picking up her nightly facial routine products as well as other ‘essentials’, one of which turned out to be a very expensive bottle of apricot brandy from her mother’s cabinet. Betty knew she would not be partaking in this, but made all the right appreciative noises when thanking her friend.

*

Betty waited in the car for her friend. _The food will be getting cold , come on V…_ she checked her phone – no messages or calls. She jumped at the rap on the tinted window. She rolled down the window to be greeted by Mr Hiram Lodge. “Good evening Miss Cooper,” he said suavely, his voice as smooth as scotch “Mija will be joining you shortly. I just wanted to make a point to come out and extend my sincerest condolences for that terrible business with Jughead. It really was awful, a teenager getting mixed up in some dangerous dealings like that, I can see how it would be easy for one to get in over their head”. Betty blinked _how dare he._ She didn’t like Hiram or trust him as far as she could throw him, and Jughead’s words from that Shadow Lake weekend echoed all too quickly in her head ‘“ _like Dracula buying up all the properties before he makes his move”’_

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure that I know what you are trying to insinuate…” she looked at him puzzled, feigning the innocent.

“How is his recovery going, how are you holding up?” Hiram continued, ignoring her remark. It was an act of course, just as Veronica made her way down the steps of the Pembrooke with her luggage.

“About as well as can be expected Mr Lodge, on both accounts,” she deadpanned before turning away and adding “just a matter of time to heal now and then we’ll find out the who’s and why’s behind it all”.

*

It had been about an hour or so she thought, since she’d called and her friend had picked her up. Now they were outside Elm Street and the driver, who was called Adrian, was helping them up the steps with their luggage and food. The lights were on inside. Betty stepped just inside the front door and immediately noted the suitcases and packed boxes where she dropped her own. She left Veronica standing awkwardly in the hallway and marched in assertively. She was puzzled. “Mom….?” She called out “are you here?” What she definitely did not expect was to see FP step through the archway off the kitchen, her mother on his heels. “Mom? What’s going on...what’s all this by the door? Are you, no, are you moving out?”

“Yes,” Alice nodded, her lips pursed. “And I’m moving in,” FP continued past Betty with a smirk on his face and began moving the boxes into the living room. “Oh and Betty, I just got a call from Dax,”he watched Betty’s reaction as her eyes went wide and she froze for a beat “ yeah, I know he said you left the hospital on your own…” Veronica followed and gave a shy wave “um, hi Mr Jones”, she kept to the edge of room and snuck into the kitchen and busied herself serving up the cartons of egg rolls and sweet n sour and getting out the plates.

“Mom I don’t understand…” Betty rubbed her temple, trying to compute the scene laid out before her.

“Oh honey…I’m sorry I thought it would be easier if I was already on the road before you got home,” _wow…_ she started to explain and nodded towards FP “your mom and me agreed it would be good for you to have some added protection here…i’m sending Quinn over shortly.” FP explained.

“we talked about it and…please i can’t stay another night in this house, Betty, sleep In the same bed… I can still smell him on the sheets, his things are everywhere, and then there’s Polly. She doesn’t know, and god… I don’t wanna think about how I’m going to explain, but she needs to hear it in person. I knew I couldn’t ask you to come with me, and I knew there was no way you would and I understand that…”

“So that’s it, I was just gonna get back from sitting with Jug all day to find an empty house?” Betty huffed and shoved her hands into her coat pockets “Were you at least going to leave a note?” She gritted and felt her heart beginning to race.

Alice was trying to hold it together also, her eyes red. “Polly is Ill, honey, she needs me..”

“I need you Mom! Betty cut her off screaming.

“B-Betty, please,” she sniffed “i knew you’d be ok, and I wanted to make sure you weren’t alone so that’s why I asked FP to move in, and Jughead too when he’s recovered” she was rushing now, trying to get her points across and not give Betty a chance to interrupt. “You two are the only two people that can begin to understand what the other is going through right now, and I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you and I hadn’t at least tried to protect you…”

“Well there you go, mom, box ticked, see you later. You can go now…” she said sarcastically, as she turned to head up the stairs.

“Betty…”

“No Mom, no! What do you want me to say? You can’t leave Polly but it’s ok to just abandon me though…you’ve got no idea what I’m going through”. Betty stomped up the stairs and slammed the bedroom door. Veronica, FP and Alice stood in silence for a beat. “Veronica,” Alice began, wondering back into the kitchen “I’m sorry you had to see that…”

“She’ll be ok Mrs C, it was just shock talking”

“She’ll understand Ali, just give her time – I gotta shoot soon but so you know, Veronica, they’ll be another Serpent on watch tonight, I’ve said he can stay inside, you won’t even know he’s here I promise, and you’ve got Fred and Archie next door” he swung his jacket on and grabbed his keys off the side table.

“I hope you’re both right,” Alice sighed “you’re a good friend, Veronica – she’s gonna need you, and I thought I was doing the right thing with FP, no, no I am. I think it’ll be good for the both of them, they can support each other and I, I’m just not strong enough to be in a codependent relationship right now, you know when you just need a bit of time to evaluate your life choices…”

“Umm… ok Mrs C, well I better um…I’m going to take this food up”, she shifted her weight awkwardly and sidled past the two remaining adults, whom were now in the living room. FP had taken out his phone and she could just make out part of the conversation: “yep- yeah just leaving – ok well yeah Andrews will be just next door... and I’m sending Quinn too – ok, yeah, all quiet there?,” he chuckled at something “anyways I’m gonna make tracks- door’s open, yep I’ll tell him – thanks, cheers man”.

Veronica headed upstairs to be the supportive best friend she was.


	14. I’m trying not to feel this music’s for you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She felt sad, and tried to picture his face. It was like the sheets were stained with memories, it just felt wrong. She popped her head phones in, lay on her side facing the screen and closed her eyes listening to the tracks, imagining his phantom arms wrapped around her holding her tight to him. The next track startled her a bit with the harsh chunky drum intro and distortion but it then gave way to the melodic first lines in a Scottish accent:
> 
> ‘The sun’s shining, the green in your eyes  
> Your beautiful face, your beautiful face  
> I held her tight, close to my heart  
> I didn’t know it would break  
> I didn’t know it would break 
> 
> Then it picked up again with the disjointed rocky guitar, she imagined the perfect setting of jumping up and down with him at a sweaty gig, singing along. 
> 
> I don’t believe this love anymore  
> It’s all insane  
> We always said it’s forever in this beautiful life…  
> She giggled at the doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo head swaying break before it kicked off again heavier, she could see why he loved screamo:
> 
> And I’m trying not to feel this music’s for you  
> And over (ah)  
> And over (ah)  
> And I’m trying not to feel this music’s for you

I’m trying not to feel this music’s for you – Part 1

“Knock, knock,” Veronica smiled and slowly opened the door with the tray “I come bearing comfort food and alcohol…” Betty was stood bracing herself against the back of the vanity chair. She wasn’t just upset, she was livid. If she hadn’t come home early then her mom would already be long gone. 

‘I’m ok, I’m ok it’s ok…” she said like a mantra, her knuckles turning white.

“Come on B, I know it sucks what she did but people do stupid shit when they’re stressed and something traumatic has happened. But now, Food. I’m starving, and I got your faves; egg rolls, duck sauce and sesame prawn toast and lemon chicken for mwah?”

Betty sighed dramatically and threw her hands up “ok, yep fine. I’m sorry, it’s just…everything right now. But I’m ok, I’m ok” she took a deep breath and stepped away from the chair. Actually she was pretty hungry too and this was the first time her appetite had reappeared.

The two friends settled down cross legged opposite each other to a makeshift picnic. They had spread out a raggedy old navy sun and moon rug.

“Yeah and you know what, she’ll be feeling shit too and then in a couple of days you’ll feel better and call her, or she’ll call you, yeah?...now come on we should eat. How do you think Jug would feel right now watching you letting perfectly good Dragon Spring delicacies going to waste?”

“I guess,” she shrugged “anyway Jug would have eaten his by now and be trying to score some of mine…Chinese food is our kinda our thing,” she exhaled hard and squeeze her eyes shut, it hurt to say his name. I’m sorry, can we just talk about something else for a little while, what’s going on with you and Arch – I take it he’s in the dog house for something, you didn’t wanna talk about him much earlier?”

“He’s just being really off today. Ok, so after the other night when you all went up to the ward and Arch and I were sent home…,” Betty nodded in between a mouthful of prawn toast “well I think the adrenalin had worn off or whatever because all of a sudden just everything came out and I couldn’t stop crying – I mean it’s us, we’re a four and then I just kept thinking about you two and how you are soul mates and how I couldn’t bear to think about what what it must be doing to you, you know?” She shook her head in mock disbelief, as Betty glanced away “I mean of course you know…I’m sorry, but like, I wasn’t used to feeling that way and Archie… was there, and he was really sweet. He actually got me my comfies out the drawer and just held me on top of the covers. I think he must have stayed with me till I fell asleep because when I woke a little later – I was cold - he’d gone”. Betty put down her fork and wiped her mouth before trying to speak – it all seemed quite lovely up to this point so where was the problem? But her friend continued to explain. “Thing is I could see light under the door and so went out into the lounge to turn it off and there was also light coming from under the door of Daddy’s study. I could hear voices in there, B.”

“I’m just gonna get some water” Betty untangled her legs and headed towards the bathroom joined onto Polly’s and her own room “Ok so say it was Arch and your dad,” she started, heading back to her spot on the floor “that’s ok. He was probably pissed because he caught your boyfriend sneaking out - your dad was most likely giving him the interrogation…”

“Yeah maybe, and last night I thought that too. I didn’t want to get caught so I went back to bed, now I wish I hadn’t” She poured herself a short glass of brandy and knocked it back quickly, before going to pour another. Betty held up her water glass to decline.. “I dunno, B, with how Archie’s been today I just have a feeling I don’t like. I know Daddy, and he would have done all that in the lounge and made sure to make show of it, probably would have made sure I was there to witness while he read Archie the riot act and the forbid us to see each other or some other last century crap. But his study is strictly off limits – usually it’s where he goes when he’s meeting clients or associates, even my Mom knows not to go in there with the door closed”

“Jughead is Archie’s oldest friend. Maybe he’s hurting too and wants some space”.

Veronica nodded “Fred” she breathed at the realisation “Perhaps it’s bringing up memories of his dad, he tried to shut me out then too”.

“There you go…” Betty shrugged “and it could be your dad reprimanded him and he’s embarrassed and wants to save face..or let’s say, and this is completely hypothetically, they were talking,” she used air quotes , “business…do you think it could be something to do with what happened the other night. We both know Jug wasn’t your dad’s biggest fan.”

“I don’t know. I don’t like to think of Daddy having anything to do with what happened…” she shuddered, slightly shocked at the change of direction.

“But you think it’s possible?” Betty said flatly.

“Something’s just off” Veronica sighed “I tried txting Archie this morning; you know just a sorta ‘hey Archikins, hope you got home – thanks for last night’, you know general girlfriend stuff – nothing. I didn’t get a reply until late in the afternoon. I txt him, and he saw my messages but didn’t reply and I called him - he cancelled me. When I did get an answer i asked him about it he said he went straight home last night… Said he’s been running and just hitting the bag..”

“And you don’t believe him? Do you think he got involved with the retaliation?”

“I have no idea, B. Wait…do you know something about a retaliation?’

Betty but her bottom lip, she knew enough but wasn’t sure how much of FPS story she should share. It was Serpent business “not anything particular but I guess I wouldn’t expect the Serpents to sit back and do nothing,” she sighed “something’s obviously going on… the one person that could shed some more light on all of this is Juggie…so what happened after, you said he did reply?”

“I then told him change of plans tonight and I was coming to yours, and I get this” Veronica showed Betty her phone message ‘I’ll see you later then’. “I mean what is that? No kisses no ‘love you’. He’s avoiding me.”

“Right,” said Betty getting up off the floor again and walking towards the window “sometimes you two need your heads banging together, well sometimes he needs his head banging into a wall”. Betty took out her phone and pulled back the curtains. Archie’s were closed. She dialled his number and waited. “I actually had another reason for wanting you here tonight, V, but it can wait…he probably won’t pick up… Archie, Hi… I have your girlfriend here who is wondering why you are ghosting her – no let me finish. You don’t know how lucky you are to have each other right now – no, I don’t really care. Sort it out and get your butt over here or I will send someone over to drag you and trust me she will not be happy about doing that – ok – good, fine – yes bring it if you want to, yes I’m sure she’d like that”. Sure enough the girls watched as the redhead across the street drew back the curtains and gave a sheepish look and wave.

“I’m thankful you have him so well trained.” Whispered Veronica. Betty giggled “since we were five…” and rolled her eyes “he’ll be over after a shower and change and we’ll straighten this thing out”.

Once it was time for dessert, Betty padded down the stairs and headed towards the kitchen. The sickness seemed to have settled and she was feeling satiated, her mood slightly lifted with the prospect of a night with two of her favourite people. 

The one called Quinn was sitting with his back to her on the sofa engrossed in something on the television involving doing up old cars. Betty had to do a double take for a moment when she saw the crown of a black beanie just above the line of the back of the sofa. He must have heard her clattering the tray because he got up and turned to face her. The first thing Betty noticed was how tall Quinn was; Jughead was about six foot or so but this guy had to have another six inches on him at least. He had broad shoulders, which were clothed in a worn out khaki shirt. His sleeves were rolled up and, from that distance, his left arm looked almost charcoal from all block shading in his tattoos. It was hard to make out where one design started and another began, but she noted a compass, a map, stars, and various Roman numerals in amongst a blanket of nebulas and planets. He took off his beanie and she noted his long dark shoulder length hair that was tied up in a man bun. His beard was shortish and well groomed; she could tell he waxed his moustache from the way it flicked up minutely at each end. His hazel eyes were kind as he extend a hand out towards her “you must be Jughead’s girl? I’m Quinn, nice to meet you”.

Betty was lost for words for moment; she knew she shouldn’t stereotype, but she genuinely hadn’t expected him to be so polite. “hi. Yes. Betty”, she struggled to manoeuvre the tray she was carrying and shake his hand and so he put down his phone and kindly took it from her and walked it over to the kitchen island. “Thanks. There was no way we could eat all that” she said as she followed him and opened up the freezer “please help yourself if you want to warm some up”.

He returned to collect his phone and then perched on the island bar stool; Betty wondered for a moment if it’s spindly legs would give out under his size. “Thank you that’s kind” he replied.

Betty saw him smirk at something on his phone and the begin tapping away at the screen. He must have noticed her watching,“just txting my girlfriend” he explained. Betty instantly felt bad for him having to be here watching her like a babysitter instead of spending the evening with his partner.

“I’m sorry that you’re here” she carried on piling onto the tray tubs of Ben and Jerries and jars of Nutella and peanut butter. Quinn gave her pointed look and arched a brow.

“No don’t be, it’s ok. She’s on nights and early morning shifts this week anyway; just on her first break of the evening. We’re used to it. I’m in the Serpents but it’s also kinda my job. I do security and doorman contracts. If I wasn’t here tonight I’d probably be outside the Wyrm or maybe Halo’s, and at least here you have Netflix – she was just warning me I’d be a dead man if I watched the next episode without her…” Betty smiled.

“What does she do?” Betty asked leaning in slightly over the island.

“She’s a nurse, on critical care at the moment I think, but it changes”

“Oh,” said Betty simply, pulling back slightly and wondering anxiously if Riverdale was such a small world that she may have in fact already had quite a lot to do with Quinn’s girlfriend. Thank god for doctor to patient confidentiality. “well thanks for looking out for us I guess, I’d better get back to my friend, and hopefully the other one will be here in a minute…” she said craning her head round to check the front door for Archie.

“It’s fine. Like I said it’s a job and the scenery is much more palatable then some of the dives I usually end up in”

Betty smiled and headed up the stairs with the tray of goodies. She turned back to him half way up “Quinn,” she started “all this, and what happened to Jug, do you really think we’d be in any danger here if you weren’t here- no offence?”

“None taken Betty. But if you ask me, what happened to Jug… there hasn’t been a beat down like that in years and it has got folks all anxious. The way it happened was brutal – I mean one kid on his own… just to make some point. It’s just fuckin nasty. I liked Jughead, he was one of the good ones so I though yeah we gotta look out for you. Also something to consider is do we really wanna find out what might happen if I’m not here…boss is just being careful.”

*

When Betty backed her way through the door of her bedroom she found Veronica had already changed into her pyjamas; dark blue satin short sleeve shirt and shorts, her dark waves were tied in a loose ponytail and she’d removed her makeup. She’d also taken it upon herself to remove Jughead’s laptop from its bag and set it up on Betty’s bed.

“This is the other reason that could wait, right?” Veronica gestured towards the bed. Betty froze for a moment, staring at the blank password screen. Was she ready for this?

“Um…” she hesitated, “first, pyjamas”. She set the tray of sweet treats on the bed and, after collecting her flannel bottoms and strappy top from under her pillow, made her way to the bathroom. She changed and began her night time skin routine; she scanned her appearance; she did look more tired, dark circles were forming under her eyes, her skin had lost its glowing dewy quality and she looked ashen in the light. Her limbs felt heavy and she felt like she’d lost where she was in space as a familiar unwelcome flush of heat spread up from her stomach. _Oh shit_ she thought, as she dropped to her knees, hard, on the tiled floor, and fumbled to open the toilet lid just in time. The first vomit was explosive and made her eyes water. Betty started to hyperventilate, as she got her breath back. “B? Are you being sick hun?” She looked up, her eyes wet with tears, to see her Veronica, and Archie Andrews - _when the hell did he get here -_ peering round the door that was open just a crack. She threw her head forward and more came out, this time she felt someone holding her hair back and rubbing her back. “Thank you” she whimpered at Veronica, but remained where she was.

“Uh, Betty are you ok?” Asked Archie, from the door frame –he didn’t know where to look.

“Clearly she’s not Archiekins….” Veronica stated, looking at him with wide eyes.

“I’m fine” Betty interrupted, wiping her mouth with a tissue “it’s probably just the prawn toast” she pressed, reaching for the first explanation that sounded convincing. It was not the best, Veronica had been sharing the meal and evidently she was fine. Her friend had cottoned on to that also and tilted her head to look at her with a kind smile and sympathetic rub of her arm.

“Archiekins…” , Veronica got up and cupped his cheek “I just need a sec with my bestie, can you just give us a minute…” she asked in a whisper as she gently pushed him back out of the doorway with a josh peck and closed the door.

“B…” she asked, as she turned to crouch down back to her friend “is this the reason that could wait?”

Betty nodded silently, screwed up her eyes and then started to cry, and she felt her friends arms around her almost instantly “B-but, but not now, not when Archie’s here” she sniffed and got up to splash her face dry her eyes. The two girls stood up looking into the same mirror, silent, and rested their heads against each other. Veronica reached for a cotton pad and tenderly wiped her friend’s eye makeup away and swept another clean one around her face to remove the base and blush, “it’s going to be ok…there fresh faced and gorgeous” she planted a kiss on her head.

“I’m not so sure”, she sniffed again “but I’m glad you’re here, V… now we should go before Archie starts thinking….” The girls erupted into a fit if giggles at the thought of the jock figuring things out on his own “aww, bless him” said Veronica in between laughing as they both went back into the bedroom.

“What am I supposed to have done now”, questioned Archie, looking slightly gormless. He was sitting in the bed with the laptop on his knees. He had already moved the tray to his side and broken into the Ben & Jerry’s.

“Well for one thing you’ve eaten pretty much half the tub of cookie dough,” Veronica started climbing onto the bed and wrapping her arms around his neck “and another you’ve got this working.”

“How did you know the password?” Betty asked coming to sit next to Archie for a better view of the screen.

“Well when Jug lived with me, I used it as well… games and we’d share music downloads and stuff. But also, like it’s not hard, Betty, it’s a combination of yours and Jellybean’s birthdays…” Betty dragged the laptop over her knees and exited out of Archie’s game “Hey! I hadn’t saved…” Betty ignored him and rolled her eyes.

“Oh, poor baby,” Veronica teased “sorry Archiekins but I think our little B has a more grown up use for it tonight, right B?”

Betty closed the lid gently. The couple listened whilst Betty explained about what Kirsty had said in the hospital; how there were accounts of patients recovering quicker, or even being brought out of comas completely, when they were played familiar music. She elaborated on the story about the elderly gentleman who had come around from his son playing a sports game to him. There was hope amongst the trio. Betty opened the laptop again and navigated to the music note icon. “When I was waiting for Juggie to be brought into recovery,” she began “they brought me his belongings and inside was his old phone – it was in pretty bad shape but I noticed when I was exploring through it…” the friends gathered around into a tighter bubble as Betty presented the screen “this”. The screen was full of lines and lines of songs from various artists, some artists had whole albums on there. Betty’s chest heaved and she chuckled breathily at the same time, not quite believing what she was seeing.

“Betts…” said Archie in amazement reading the title of the playlist, and Veronica gasped “there’s gotta be about three hundred songs here”

“I know,” Betty breathed out and nodded, her eyes welling up again “they’re all here… some I recognise but others I’ve never heard of – but… some of them were uploaded years ago”

“I thought you guys got together middle of last year” asked Veronica

“We did…” she said with a quick exhale. Archie was rubbing the back of his neck, clearly feeling guilty for hiding something “what?”

“Oh come on Archie you were, are, his best friend, you must have known?” Questioned Veronica and gesturing towards Betty.

“Arch?...”

“Well sure, Betty of course I knew. Ever since we were little he’s had a soft spot for you. You remember, he wanted you to be Wendy when we used to play lost boys because that way you’d be allowed in the treehouse with us when Reggie banned you and Pol….”

‘yes!” Betty giggled “but then we’d always end up coming in anyway and looking at Baxter brother and Tracey True books together in the fort behind Mr Andrew’s couch…”

“But, obviously Jughead wasn’t very obvious with it because you didn’t know…”

“I can’t believe it… all this time..”

Veronica pointed at the screen “aww, look Taylor Swift… good one beanie boy…”

“Yeah, that one’s all you Betty” laughed Archie

“I used to say that song reminded me of us you know ‘James Dean, rebel without a cause, daydream look in your eyes’ again he’d complain and scoff at it..”

“Aww and this one, I love that song,” Veronica gushed, hitting play and bouncing off the bed and trying to pull Archie off for a dance. He reluctantly rose to his feet and held his girlfriend around her waist. It was Iron and Wine. Betty instantly recognised it from the dance she’d dragged him to; the date of the upload corresponded perfectly – 2015. Betty shook her head “I liked him too…, then. And the one time I tried to make a move…I requested that, and do you know what he did? He teased me about the film, throwing out sarcastic comments and then awkwardly walking away to get a drink. He left me in the middle of the floor…” she turned it off and the room was silent again.

“Betty, didn’t you know? Cheryl and Reggie and the rest were behind making fun of you both. He must have seen it…”

“After that we all stopped talking and I started to have feelings for…someone else” the trio knew whom she was referring to and it it was fine that it went unspoken. Betty scanned through the list, stopping every now and again to point out artists; Foo Fighters, Pink Floyd, Biffy Clyro, Queen, AC/DC, Everclear, Pennywise, Metallica and Muse among so many more.

“Oh no way… the little shhh, I knew it, I knew it” she furrowed her brow and the erupted into giggles.

“What?”

“Explain…”

“Oh I’ve gotta tell you this one…”

_Betty thought back and Veronica and Archie went back to lying on the bed. Veronica listened thoughtfully whilst the two old friends recalled the events of a warm summer’s evening in 2016; It was the forth of July and Archie’s dad was having his annual backyard bbq and fireworks display. This year he’d invited some of his work colleagues along and their families “Archie, you know what I’m going to say…” the redhead sighed and scrunched his nose and looked up at the ceiling “yep..” he said enunciating the ‘p’ with a pop._

_“Anyway so me, Jug, Archie and this girl, Ashleigh, who was the daughter of…was it Vic or Mark…? Anyway, we all ended up sitting in Archie’s treehouse, watching the parents. Ashleigh was flirting and then it was all ‘“Archie I’m kinda cold…”’, you remember? He did, and he also remembered with embarrassment how Jughead ribbed him slightly and how Ashleigh had actually had to resort to whispering in Arch’s ear so that he eventually cottoned on to what she was hinting. It hadn’t taken long after that for him to follow her down the ladder._ Betty continued, _“So she gives him this line about wanting to watch the fireworks from inside – I mean it was stupid, she was wearing a bikini top and it was 98 degrees even that time of evening… and so off they went”_

“So then there were two,” Veronica teased and leant over towards the bedside table and took a sip from her brandy glass.

Betty felt uncomfortable as she explained to her companions that she was indeed jealous that night, and that she’d ended up venting everything to Jughead.

_Betty remembered sitting there frozen. She had just been starting to notice Archie in that way around that time and Jughead was just, well, Jughead. She hadn’t been able to speak for what felt like five minutes, In reality it was probably more like thirty seconds. She’d pulled her knees up to her chest; looking back at it now, it was probably because she was feeling insecure and inadequate regarding her body._

_He spoke first. ‘Are you cold too?”_

_“No” she had said flatly._

She smiled at how he’d wrapped the blanket around her anyway and lifted up his arm for her to snuggle in under.

_“It’s not like you can even get a good view up there,” she’s whined into his flannel “and does she really think we’re that thick, that we wouldn’t figure it out? She’s got some nerve, Juggie”_

“Oh poor Jughead, he was there trying to be all supportive and, who knows maybe more, and you were just off on one about this guy…” Veronica cried, and playfully punched her boyfriend in the arm. “Hey! It’s not my fault…”

“I know, I’m getting to that but …,” Betty sighed “no offence arch but I cringe when I think back to how I was when I was crushing on you…”

_“It’s better it’s just us for now anyway…” Jughead had said into her hair and then quickly pulled back “um… I mean, I’m surprised this place hasn’t fallen down all around us by now… I mean what is it like the fifth summer Mr Andrews has had to make emergency patch ups?”_

_“I guess…”_

_“Betts...,” she hadn’t replied only sighed, whilst trying to glance up at the ceiling and blink. He knew she was on the verge of tears. “You ok?”_

_It had all come out then, “you know what, Juggie, I don’t think I am actually.”_

_“Archie?” He’d said with a hint of sadness in his voice_

_“Is it that obvious?”_

_“Not to everyone…”_

_She had started to talk faster and become more animated with her hands “I thought he liked me too, Jug. We’re always smiling at each other through the window…,” she had sighed dramatically and through her hands up “but I dunno, it’s not him. It’s me. He doesn’t see me like that does he? Maybe he never will. Who can blame him, Ashleigh’s hot, and Brittany is like naturally curvy and then Cheryl, well.. sorry, Jug, this is silly girl talk and I’m boring you to death…”_

_He had pulled her in closer and wrapped the blanket around her tighter, before reaching over for her Pop’s strawberry shake he had specially brought earlier._

_“Well I think you’re lovely,” he said and planted a kiss on the top of her head “and one day, hopefully you will forget about…him. I just think there’s someone better for you…”_

_She’d snuggled into him closer and grabbed his pinky finger and linked it with her own_ “and that’s why we are best friends, Juggie, you always know how to cheer me up…”

_“I just can’t stand to see you miserable. It’s the worst thing…” she’d looked up at him then with question in her eyes, “music…?” He’d practically jumped away from her and she’d done the same, each of them trying not to meet each other’s gaze._

_“Yes! Good idea, anything’s better than the over 40s soundtrack down there. I think I actually heard Foreigner earlier…”_

Betty smiled fondly at this part; this had begun, what Jughead, had called her education into classic rock and decent music.

_“Hey, I know it’s cheesy but not all 80s dad rock was bad- I mean come on Betts, AC/DC, Queen, Whitesnake, and then go back further you’ve got Floyd…oh I have so much to teach you, oh god and then there’s the new stuff and heavier stuff – Metallica…” she giggled at how animated he was getting._

_“And I thought you were all about…what are they called, my friends funeral?”_

_He had tried really hard to stifle a laugh but it was futile “it’s Funeral For a Friend, and yeah I know I like emo shit, as you’d say, but come on you can’t beat the greats… don’t look at me like that”._

_“You just surprise me that’s all… Ok then, now come on Jug. Please tell me you’ve got your discman with you, this thing always weighs a ton,” Betty had lay back on her elbows to slide over her friend’s bag, only to find it lighter than ever. “Ok…”_

_“Ah, haha that is where you are wrong, Cooper, I am going up in the world. I now have an iPod – look it can shuffle between artists and everything…” They’d sat and listened to Muse and Nirvana and Pink Floyd and Fight Star, and Foo Fighters and watched the fireworks. They’d sat cross legged and made a plan to save up, and Jug was going to take Betty to their first music festival – no squeaky pop star girl bands allowed he’d insisted. It was nice, easy. There was no question between them they’d share a tent._

_“Juggie…?”_

_“Hmm?”_

_“Can I ask you something…? Do you like anyone, like like them?” She’d asked nervously twirling her hair “ I mean, like I never see you with anyone and I don’t think you’ve even talked about anyone else…girls or boys?”_

_“Nah, but so you know it’s girls not boys,” he blushed “not that there’s anything wrong with that, just not my thing… plus girls don’t tend to go for the broken loner emo boy…”_

_“Ah, now that’s where you may be wrong, Jones…come on you’re a catch…”_

_“I’m not interested in anyone else…”_

_“So… there is someone then?” This time he had tried to look away, suddenly engrossed in his iPod screen and swiping between tracks. He coughed, like his words were caught in his throat “not anyone I can talk about…”_

_“Jug…,” without thinking she’d put her hand on his knee – it was automatic and she quickly pulled it back “what else you got on here” she said brightly, her usual bubbly nature coming back, Archie and the girl happily forgotten temporarily. She snatched it out if his hands and the treehouse was suddenly filled with the first smooth guitar notes of a cover by Muse – ‘“your just too good to be…”_

_“Fuck! Nope no, no… we’ll just skip that one…” Jughead exclaimed, tackling the devise out her hands._

_“Oh come on!” Betty yelled and immediately jumped over him to try and prise it out if his opposite hand that was holding it out at arms length as far away as possible…”don’t you dare, Cooper!”_

_“Jughead Jones, you softie, I know exactly what that is, and I want to listen to it!” She smirked at him leaning in and then discreetly hit play –‘“true, can’t take my eyes off”’ – it was stopped again._

_“It’s still Muse. I make no apologies… and I’m changing it anyway…”_

_Betty dived over him and crawled into his lap. “Not if I get there first!” ‘’Of you, you’d be like heaven…” The tree house creaked and they both stunned still for a moment before laughing again._

_“Yeah you think so” he teased and this time his nimble fingers went for her ribs, and then they were a rolling mess of tickles and giggling until he found himself pinning her underneath him, his nervous breaths coming out in heaves. All the while the track carried on playing and the fireworks lit up the sky. “You know what…” he breathed._

_“What? What?” She whispered searching his eyes._

_“Archie’s a fucking idiot!”_

“Oh my god!” exclaimed Veronica with a grin stretching from ear to ear “so what happened next?”

“Unfortunately nothing,” Betty sighed sadly “wrong time, we both did our usual best friend thing of feeling awkward around each other and pulling away. He was on top of me but I think I tried to wiggle out from under him and made some excuse about needing to head home shortly…and then he pulled his beanie back on and stopped the track and agreed he should do the same.”

“And Archiekins I take it you and that girl missed all the fireworks and spent the night making out…” she rolled her eyes playfully and laughed.

“Yeah something like that,” he mumbled “she wasn’t a great kisser though…” he said and brushed his lips against Veronica’s.

Betty smiled at them “go!” She giggled and pointed towards Polly’s room “Um…B, do you think you’ll be ok here if Archie and I take our leave for the night?”

“Yes, just…don’t be too, eww loud making up in there…”

She watched them gather up the tray of ice cream and practically trip over each other’s feet on their way out “taking that with you, are ya?” Betty teased.

“Oh yes!” Replied the raven haired vixen with a wink.

And so Betty was left alone in bed with Jughead’s laptop, an outlet for him pouring out his feelings in another way she knew nothing about. She felt like her heart could burst with how long he’d kept this, how many songs there were. She got under the covers and dragged the machine over to the empty side of her bed. She felt sad, and tried to picture his face. It was like the sheets were stained with memories, it just felt wrong. She popped her head phones in, lay on her side facing the screen and closed her eyes listening to the tracks, imagining his phantom arms wrapped around her holding her tight to him. The next track startled her a bit with the harsh chunky drum intro and distortion but it then gave way to the melodic first lines in a Scottish accent:

_‘The sun’s shining, the green in your eyes_

_Your beautiful face, your beautiful face_

_I held her tight, close to my heart_

_I didn’t know it would break_

_I didn’t know it would break_

Then it picked up again with the disjointed rocky guitar, she imagined the perfect setting of jumping up and down with him at a sweaty gig, singing along.

_I don’t believe this love anymore_

_It’s all insane_

_We always said it’s forever in this beautiful life…_

She giggled at the doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo head swaying break before it kicked off again heavier, she could see why he loved screamo:

_And I’m trying not to feel this music’s for you_

_And over (ah)_

_And over (ah)_

_And I’m trying not to feel this music’s for you_

  
She felt the tears fill her eyes; a mix of joy and sorrow this time - She had to know and so right clicked on the highlighted line and looked at the date it was added to the playlist - 4thJuly 2016.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awwwww I hope that made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. 
> 
> Part 2 on the way...
> 
> As usual I don’t own anything and these are not my lyrics but of course from the very talented bands stated in the chapter. 
> 
> Love getting comments, suggestions, requests etc, and yeah hope you are all enjoying it as much as I am writing it! 
> 
> Take care xxx


	15. And Who’ll Watch Over You When I’m Gone?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She couldn't quite fathom why she continued to torture herself; returning to snuggle back into the safety of her bed, clicking through to sample track after track. She'd latch onto a phrase or idea here and there and instantly seek to connect the dots by marrying it up with the dates they were added and thinking back to whatever corresponding event had happened between them then. Some of the words were more piercing to her soul than others, but she felt she needed to hear it, like she needed to be punished if she was ever going to be able to redeem herself. Some words could have been interpreted as him talking to her and others more like an internal monologue.
> 
> ...So let's face it, this was never what you wanted
> 
> But I know that it's fun to pretend
> 
> ...Now you still speak of day old hate
> 
> Though your whole world has gone up into flames
> 
> And isn't it great to find that you're really worth nothing
> 
> And how safe it is to feel safe

And who will watch over you, when I’m gone

Betty woke with a startle. It must have still been dark outside as she could only make out outlines of shapes in her bedroom. Someone had dropped the toilet seat with a smash in the connected bathroom by mistake. She had no idea how many hours she’d managed to get in, but surprisingly she actually felt refreshed to some extent and was relieved the tops of her legs did not feel like they were composed of bricks. It must have been the longest stretch of sleep since before that night, even if it was no more that four or five hours. Come to think of it, with the stress of the Blackhood, her father, and general horror that had been hanging over her hometown like a doomsday cloud for the best part of six months, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept a full eight hours. The tiny white headphones had fallen out and were lying on the sheet next to her face. She could faintly hear the tin rustling sound of distant symbols and hi-hats, bits and pieces of vocal notes and the picking of guitar strings. The Screen was still lit but it was in a power saving mode; so giving off a fainter glow. She had no idea what track she had drifted off listening to, but the bar looked to have moved quite a long way and it took several rolls of the mouse pad on the side bar to get back to the Biffy Clyro track; 57. She vividly remembered that one; the singer’s words about holding her close to his heart and not knowing it would break, and a voice in her head had whispered that it was like _he_ was speaking to her from beyond the grave – except, she had pointed out to it assertively, that he was not dead yet. She drew her attention back to the early morning disruption -It was her pal, Archie. She watched him, partially tucked from view under the covers and breathing slowly and silently, trying to sneak out. He was still wearing the same clothes from last night and had chosen to walk through her room so as not to wake Veronica. The floor board always creaked at about 3ft between the door and the desk. She knew this, and waited for the inevitable curse words that rolled out his mouth when it caught him out. She observed him quietly. He seemed to be weighing up leaving and heading towards her. Perhaps he spied the laptop on bed, worried about it getting too hot perhaps. She made the decision for him “Arch?” She called out groggily.

“Betty?” he whispered, and crept over to stand at the side of the bed “sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you…”

“Where are you going, it’s so early?” She asked sleepily, sitting up and rubbing at her eyes. “It’s 4;45am!?” She half-whispered-half shouted. He had explained he was just going for a lone run, however Betty was not convinced. “Since when do you go running this early” she pushed.

“I've gotta get my kit – I didn’t bring it over here, and wanna make sure I’ve got enough time to get the full 10km in” he said, standing up to make a break for the door again. he was quick to answer; a rehearsed answer perhaps? She pondered

“Now I’m awake you could sit with me a bit?” Betty asked and patted a spot next to her on top the covers.

He hesitated for a second, checked his watch and then said “Ok, but just for a little while”

“Thanks,” she replied and smiled as he kicked off his sneakers and sat next to her. His feet, or boys’ feet in general never bothered her much before but right now she had the nose of a bloodhound. “You know though, your feet stink, do you think you could keep them on the floor!”

“Oi, well thanks, that’s charming! Remind me why I’m staying put with you this morning?” He laughed and then drew his attention back to the screen. “Still going through it?”

“Yeah, he always did say I needed to be given an education when it came to my choice in artists. I'm beginning to think he had a point. Arch, I need to talk to you about V"

"Ok."

"She's worried about you, ok, you've been cagey and mysterious all yesterday, and it isn't like you and she's worried you are gonna get hurt, Me too... This is me now, ok your oldest friend, are you ok? Are you resurrecting the red circle again, did you get involved in something? FP told me...." 

“He told you what exactly?" He cut her off.

"Enough...to know its dangerous to be a Serpent right now."

"Yeah right... ," he sniffed and looked away. "look Ronnie doesn't have to worry, I know what I'm doing" he stated and changed the subject briskly "Hey I know that one, it’s one of mine -off my City and Colour album… huh. I didn’t think that was his thing.”

"Archie...you didn't answer me."

"Betty," he said quietly and squeezed her hand "I know what I'm doing. That's all I can tell you right now" he reiterated.

They sat for a few seconds in silence and then, as she succumbed to the fact that he wasn't going to disclose anything that morning, she started to confide in him about something else that had been troubling her. She hoped he'd be able to empathise.

“Archie, did you know he had these?’ She asked softly, and navigated away from the single track to the ‘select playlist' screen. “There’s ‘Betts’ but he obviously also felt compelled to make these –‘"dark’”, I mean what must have been going through his head?" She removed the headphones from their jack and clicked 'play'. It was on shuffle. She read out loud as the gentle slow but sinister sounding notes of the first piano bar tinkled in the background "Nine Inch Nails - Hurt" 

“Well Yeah, I knew he had some metal and screamo stuff, it's just not my bag...But do you think you should be listening to that? it might be upsetting? Plus, he probably wouldn’t want anyone to see it. You know how he could get; like literally, i remember his dad warning me about him going over to the dark side when he went inside. You didn’t see him…” Betty cut him off as the words began softly in the background.

_I hurt myself today_

_to see if I still feel_

_I focus on the pain_

_The only thing that's real..._

“I did, I know, I saw, we hurt him, Arch" her whispering increased in volume and speed "He couldn’t even look at me initially the day of the street race. what was it he said...it was way worse via you…”

“Betty why are we going over this? Hey, it’s old ground. He was fine. You got through it…”

_...what have I become?_

_My sweetest friend_

_Everyone I know_

_Goes away in the end_

"Betty, maybe turn that off?.." he requested, she sensed he was starting to feel uncomfortable.

Betty shook her head. Perhaps that’s why she’d felt like she’d been carrying around a permanent stone in the bottom of her gut whenever she was around Archie. It was guilt, pure and simple. They’d both seen him low before; caught a glimpse of that dark side when he was spiralling downwards. They’d been comfortable enough to let him sit on his own at school, dwelling in self loathing when they should have been there for him, but hey as long as they kept up appearances? He'd get over it. They’d caught up with him in Pop’s on homecoming night after he’d been betrayed and Veronica and Archie had broken into his dads trailer, he looked so broken. Numb. Cold. 

“We’ve been doing it for years– don’t you think so? How are you not more upset about this? And The worst part is we are still doing it, we kissed...”

“At least turn it down... I don't want Ronnie waking up, and you know why... he shrugged it off, but stayed looking at his clasped hands “we talked about that, they both understood why it happened. Ronnie’s fine. It didn’t mean anything, right?” He asked glancing up at her.

She did turn it down

_And you could have it all..._

_My empire of dirt_

“Of course not, no. But it’s… it’s just that it all mounts up. We didn’t treat him very well and we didn’t back then either and what if ..."

_I will let you down_

_I will make you hurt_

_If I could start again_

_A million miles away_

_I would keep myself_

_I would find a way_

"Betty if you're talking about when we were kids, before Jason, before all of it...that wasn't us. Reggie, Chuck, some of the girls...but we didn't... we never joined in. You always backed him up."

"We weren't the perpetrators but we still didn't look after him. We could have stopped it. He was always on the hook, kept at arms length like some dirty little secret. It wasn’t fair. I knew there was something between us but I just chose to ignore it...I’m not a good person..." the opening intro of Funeral For a Friend's StreetCar started up with a girl's voice answering a telephone: '" _hello?"'_

_When eyes are red_

_We can't talk for a while_

_Without our sweet dumb things we say_

_you don't want me anyway_

_You don't want me anyway_

_so what_

_Why should i stay?_

_So goodbye to you and your life_

_Your new best friends_

_your confidence_

_And i'll be here when you get home_

It was more upbeat than the last song; still emo but with a manic pop-punk feeling to it, but the words could still cut deep.

"Betty you've gotta stop this, ok. You'll make yourself ill. It's too late anyway, and we all know Jughead wouldn't want you talking like this." He stated and looked at his watch a second time. It irritated her, but she continued to vent.

"At one point I nearly went for it with him, you know," she said softly, "I had my chance but I ignored it. I put my own popularity above us, choosing to care more about what people would say or think than him; my best friend,” she was on the verge of tears again. She recognised her hormones were probably running rampant, just couldn't stop herself. It was like she'd been seeing everything through rose tinted glasses, and now they were off and she had to really look inside herself and confront feelings and revelations she'd been suppressing. She'd been taking him for granted, and now everything was starting to unravel. She could practically see the imaginary red string, not unlike their beloved murder boards, linking every little incident in her mind's eye, every lie, every wrong decision together. 

Sitting half way

_Away from NOWHERE_

_Praying for our lips to touch_

_Holding myself,_

_For a second_

_Just to catch you smile_

_On this LINE._

_So goodbye to you and your lies_

_(Two months, EIGHT weeks)_

_Your new best friends_

_Your confidence_

_(Turn my hours into days)_

_And I'll be here when you get home_

_(When you get home)_

The two lovers on the track; a boy and a girl alternated the next lines In what sounded like an echoing telephone exchange, whilst the guitar riff spiralled on a loop

_I can't feel the same about you anymore_

_I can't feel the same about you anymore_

_I can't feel the same about you anymore_

_I can't feel the same about you anymore_

_I can't feel the same about you anymore_

_I can't feel the same about you anymore_

_I can't feel the same about you anymore_

_I can't feel the same about you anymore_

_It's just like you said_

_It would be_

_(Separation)_

_I can't feel this way about you anymore_

_It's just like you said_

_It would be_

_(separation)_

_I can't feel the same_

_I can't feel this way_

_I can't feel the same about you anymore_

“I’m… I know I’m going to just end up breaking his heart again. Listen, you can hear it. He knew it too. The fact it's says CANT feel the same rather than DONT feel the same implies it was a conscious effort not to love her or him anymore because it's too hard...or maybe that's what he's imagining I'm saying to him..."

“That’s just teenager stuff though, I think you're reading into this too much,” said Archie with a sigh, “he knows that. It’s harmless in the grand scheme of things…he's not as fragile as you think" he started to clamber off the bed, clearly having had enough of his friend's train of thought. Or maybe he just wasn't ready to confront the same demons. 

“No! It not, It’s not. It gives rise to insecurities that stay long after school has ended..."

"Betty!" He snapped at her. It was unexpected and she felt his fingers digging in and gripping her round the shoulders; trying to get through to her "I don't think he made these because he was being bullied or feeling sorry for himself. Anyway you're with him now, let it go! To be honest I don't know what you think you are gong to achieve dragging all this up and invading his privacy"

"Don’t you feel guilty..." she whined "I thought you of all people would understand, you write songs about heartache and emotional stuff... it's been you, me and him from the beginning. It's all here," she explained, scanning through the track names and right clicking to check the corresponding dates of upload - 'watch over you', 'day old hate' 'walk with me in hell', 'feel good drag' It's him expressing himself but through someone else's lyrics; things he'd never say..."

"No," he said it flatly, lips pursed in frustration and without hesitation. "Sometimes, us guys...we just feel angry, sometimes we just like a song it doesn't have to be all... never mind...and I really do have to go ...and maybe you should turn that off, it's clearly getting to you...and you're smarter than this" he checked his watched again, scoffed and shoved his feet into his sneakers without bothering to untie them. 

Betty climbed out of bed, taking the laptop with her and practically throwing it into Archie's arms. "You think it's all horse shit? Right, look then. Right there - the date that was right on the night he joined the Serpents, and later, here -FPs retirement party where he broke up with me. He said he was protecting me...and look 'watch over you' it's the only one from that same night as when he got attacked... What if these aren't just teenage angst songs, what if these are something else?"

"Like what, Betty, you're seeing things that aren't there - going round and round in circles" he barked at her 

" I don't know, I don't know but, but there's gotta be more to it, there has to be..." she was starting to panic now.

"Just,...just Stop you're tired, you're not making sense." He didn't look at the screen and pushed it back into her, throwing his hands up in frustration. She stood mouth agape. One thing she wouldn't ever have attributed to Archie was for him to be patronising. 

"Oh it's so easy to be you isn't it," she shouted after him "off In perfect little Archie land, totally fucking oblivious..." and then he was gone, choosing to turn his back on his friend, on Ronnie and on all of it and walk out. Maybe, she thought, he just needed an escape as well. But the going for a run story just didn't add up and she was so mad at him. Why did she have to care so much and he could just carry on? She'd clocked him checking his watch, and he was certainly on edge; it was rare they he'd actually fight with her, that passion was usually saved for a Ronnie and then they'd defuse the situation in their usual way. There was one person that would get it, get the method to her apparent madness - but he wasn't here.

She couldn't quite fathom why she continued to torture herself; returning to snuggle back into the safety of her bed, clicking through to sample track after track. She'd latch onto a phrase or idea here and there and instantly seek to connect the dots by marrying it up with the dates they were added and thinking back to whatever corresponding event had happened between them then. Some of the words were more piercing to her soul than others, but she felt she needed to hear it, like she needed to be punished if she was ever going to be able to redeem herself. Some words could have been interpreted as him talking to her and others more like an internal monologue.

_...So let's face it, this was never what you wanted_

_But I know that it's fun to pretend_

_...Now you still speak of day old hate_

_Though your whole world has gone up into flames_

_And isn't it great to find that you're really worth nothing_

_And how safe it is to feel safe_

  
  


_And who is gonna save you_

_When I'm gone?_

_And who'll watch over you_

_When I'm gone?_

_And when I'm gone_

_Who will break your fall?_

_When you break?_

_I can't go on_

_Let you lose it all_

_It's more than I can take_

_Who'll ease your pain?_

_Ease your pain_

  
  


_Was this over before_

_Before it ever began_

_Your kiss_

_Your calls_

_Your crutch_

_Like the devil's got your hand_

_This was over before_

_Before it ever began_

_Your lips_

_Your lies_

_Your lust_

_Like the devil's in your hands_

Or Perhaps the redhead was right; she was a notorious over-thinker after all, and was there any benefit in lying there alone listening to songs that were so depressing and would only succeed in making her feel worse. But it had all made perfect sense once upon a time In her head - she sensed she was onto something. If she were in one of her therapy sessions, it could even have been perceived as a breakthrough. Maybe it was just that, like so many others had done so before her by reaching for a weepy movie or a tragic love story, she needed a good cry and somehow it helped her feel closer to him, like he was more present in the room talking to her through an alternative medium. She wasn't ready to let go yet.

*

It was Veronica that came to disconnect her in the end. She caught sight of her raven haired bestie leaning against the door frame to the interconnecting room, coffee cup in hand and silk robe skimming her curves. Even with bedhead hair she still looked like a Latina goddess. She strolled over to the bed and set her cup down, before coming to sit next to the blonde. 

"Please tell this is not what you have been doing all night when you should have been getting beauty sleep...recharging?" she asked with a questioning look and furrowed brows.

"No I uh did actually get some sleep thanks. Just been feeling, you know... nostalgic for simpler times." She said sadly, looking up from her bed sitting up with her head resting on her hand. She'd tell her friend about the argument with Archie another time, they seemed to be back on good terms and she didn't want to jeopardise anything there. 

"Right, speaking of which, we should be thinking about getting you up and ready miss. You've got a date with Your beau...and I think you letting me work my magic wouldn't hurt. It's my signature combination of blue spirilina and volcanic ash face exfoliating face mask and serum elixir - you'll be feeling more energised and glowing when I'm finished with you, and I want to take care of my bestie." She pouted "please?"

"Fine... so I guess that's caffeine off the menu then, it'll be too toxifying and dehydrating" she asked eyeing up the striped cup.

"Oh no, no" Vernica giggled and went to guard her cup from view "absolutely, I don't think you should have this and - that's my 'I can't function until I've had my macchiato' morning fuel. Also I don't think I want to give it to you anyway even if You _were_ allowed...because you, miss, didn't tell me about how cute Mr indie band motorcycle man downstairs is..." Veronica teased with a playful flick to her Betty's shoulder. 

"Oh you mean Quinn?" She replied innocently "Sorry must have slipped my mind last night, what with...everything" Betty yawned.

"Hmm, he's awfully polite," she gushed with a twinkle in her eye "and what is it about tattoos and muscles under rolled up sleeves...," Veronica mock swooned dramatically and giggled. 

"I don't know... maybe our boys will need a bit of convincing to don some one day hmm" she smirked "However," Betty sighed "Quinn has a girlfriend and you have an Archie..."

"Oh I'm allowed to look, B, for now we can just admire from afar... especially since the boy wonder seems to have done yet another disappearing act " she rolled her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair.

Betty explained that Archie had left earlier to go a run, she didn't need to go into anymore detail than that. The two girls headed towards the bathroom with promises of girl talk and pampering, Betty far more reluctant to relinquish the warm coziness of her bed than her friend. Unfortunately for Veronica she didn't get any further than the cleansing part of her ABC skin routine on Betty, as Betty quickly shoved her out the way and dived for the toilet to throw up. 

"Oh, Dejavu," Veronica commented and abandoned the beauty station to hold back Betty's hair "hey, You ok babes."

"What do you think?" Whimpered Betty "sorry, just didn’t think there could possibly be anymore but it’s relentless...."

"ummm…B." She was hovering around the subject, Betty could tell.

"I know where this is going," she sighed and threw her head forward again "No time like the present". She pointed towards the bathroom cabinet under the sink, and Veronica handed her the unmarked white paper bag.

"Uh, if you're... do you want me to stay..?" Said Veronica awkwardly as Betty got to her feet and braced herself against the side the bath. 

"Thanks, I think I got this part, you can wait outside"

Betty took the test out the box and sat on the toilet lid, studying the instructions once and then a second time, making them out to be far more complicated than they needed to be. She scanned back over the frequently asked questions. Then with a deep breath, she pulled down her underwear and sat on the toilet to take the test. She walked out of the room a few moments later, having put theobject on the counter face down whilst she’d washed her face and brushed her teeth. She didn’t dare to look it alone.

Veronica was standing in the middle of room, pacing and occupying herself looking at photos of Betty and Jughead and little trinkets and knick-knacks adorning Betty’s vanity. 

"How long has it been?" She asked when she saw her friend approaching. She was walking so slowly, trying not to drop the object. 

"don’t know'" she whispered " I didn’t think to time it....Must have been long enough though now I suppose". Betty held it out on top of both palms face down at arms length. 

"Do you want me to…?" She was met with a series of little shudder-like nods.

There was a sharp inhale of breath and Betty’s lip trembled. Veronica turned it over and immediately her hand went to her mouth with a gasp, and after a beat she lowered her hand in slow motion and asked "There’s no other way to interpret that is there…?"

"No" came Betty's reply in a breath. She was in shock. 

The squeal was deafening, "Oh my god, o-m-god, o-m-god, B!" She wrapped her up in the biggest hug she'd given her all day "your pregnant!" 

Betty couldn't speak. Veronica let her go eventually and led her to sit down at her vanity, like she was suddenly an imvilid. 

"But you knew didn’t you? The not drinking, the..feeble excuse about the food, the sickness, sorry but there was nothing wrong with the food, and how exhausted you’ve been..."

"Yes" it was barely audible "Yes I knew, I just hadn’t confirmed it and now... it’s just become a lot more real"

"How do you feel?" Veronica asked, her hand nervously up to her mouth, knowing full well it was a stupid question. "Can I say congratulations?

"Well," Betty huffed "I’m 17, I’m pregnant and my boyfriend and father of my baby is lying in intensive care in a coma- Not really sure how I’m supposed to feel... oh and we're under 24/7 bodyguard protection.."

"I'm sorry, I suppose there isn’t really a best friend protocol I can follow in that situation" and there really wasn't She hugged her again and came to kneel up high next to her on the floor. "Are those happy tears?" She asked and stroked a strand of her friend's hair away and reached to pass her the tissue box.

"Thanks, she sniffed, looking down at the ground "it's a bit of both, a little part of me thought maybe I wouldn't be, that it was just late and then the other part is happy because I love Jughead...I love him so much" the tears started to fall faster "but...he should be here with me. This isn’t exactly how I pictured this moment, no offence,V" 

"None taken sweetie." 

"But again like, I can't help but think, what if this isn’t what he wants…or, what I want?" 

"Well, So was it you and Jughead when that picture was In your head?"

Betty wiped at her eyes and sat up a bit straighter "You mean did I picture little children hair as black as ebony and green eyes running around– of course... but I thought we’d be in our own house, you know, of high school, maybe even out of this town… it’s all backwards...and then I find out he's got all this music and he's been hurting and I just...With what I've been thinking...Does that make me a terrible person?"

"No honey! No, it's just a lot..." soothed Veronica rubbing her back

"You know less than a week ago we were talking about how we’d go about taking a gap year – we wondered about travelling you know… he wanted to go to Mexico, London, Bali, Iceland see the northern lights maybe snowboarding. Then there’s college, applying to NYU, Yale, Iowa… and now...now he's ...and I'm"

"And now you’re having a baby..." Betty nodded and slumped forward with her head in her hands. 

"Hey, he loves you. He loves you more than I think I’ve ever witnessed anyone love another person, yeah?" She laughed "it’s like crazy person love! He’ll be with you on this, whatever you choose . And there’s always auntie V and Uncle Arch. Or..." she hesitated and Betty thought she heard the lump in her throat actually descend, "or if it's not the right time you could talk about other options" 

"No ..I can't, and I wouldn’t do that. It’s his baby too." she said with a shake of her head.

"Well you've got time...what you're probably like, what four weeks?"

"Actually," she started, leaving the answer incomplete and Veronica curious. "sorry, do you mind if we talk and change, well it could be four...but it also could be more like eight or nine". Veronica listened whilst Betty explained how her private life had been sort of interrogated into and how questions, and her collapse, had led her to check the calendar on her phone. She went on to describe her system and how the expected date of her last period starting was just conveniently missed off. 

"Oh fuck,.. sorry,"Veronica exclaimed "so in like seven months he or she could be here..."

"Yep" said Betty, holding up one of her favourite sweaters uncomfortably in front of her currently still flat abdomen "hopefully I won't be feeling like complete shit for the whole duration, honestly v," she sighed and changed into it, stopping one more time to examine herself from the side in the mirror "I don't think I've ever been so tired in my life".

"Well. We better get that boyfriend of yours back awake so he can start taking some of the burden off you, get you some prenatal vitamins and...do whatever research expectant teenage dads are supposed to do and..." she excitedly squeaked then, coming up behind her "we gotta find out if Loui Viton make maternity clothes"

"Ha! I think it'll be more Target with our limited funds..." Betty giggled "but thanks for the thought..."

Their chatter about Wellwoman vitamins and pregnancy apps was interrupted by a loud crash and broken glass tinkling coming from downstairs, there was a thud and the roar of a Harley or other powerful bike heading off away from the house. Terrified and hearing footsteps bounding up the stairs, the girls collected themselves together and huddled in the bathroom with the door shut. "you girls ok." Quinn asked with a polite knock on the bedroom door. "Are you decent, can I come in?"

"Quinn? Yeah we're in here - is everything ok?" Betty asked as she opened the door again and they stepped out. The Serpent had his back to them as he pushed up the sash of her front window and leaned out.

"Woah, hey we're ok, but you, you're bleeding!" Betty remarked in horror when he turned back around. The cuts on his head varied in size and shape; from a line of pin pricks, to some more like pencil top erasers and a much longer gash across running part way down his left eyelid. She didn't think the cuts were deep, but with the skin being so thin on the head, they bled a lot. "We need to stem that" she said heading back to the bathroom cabinet, not really sure if anything in there would actually be of any value.

"It's just scrapes, its not as bad as it looks," he explained, touching his finger tips to the biggest gash and looking at his hand. "But' you're both ok, yeah? Betty please can you hand me an old towel, sorry" even sitting there injured in the line of duty, he still remembered his manners. Betty did as he requested, and watched as he folded it into a pad a pushed it against his eye.

"Yeah, we're ok" Veronica stared, standing partially in front of her friend "What the hell happened?"

"V...we're ok, he's hurt..."

"It's ok Betty," he replied softly "Someone lobbed a brick through the front window, they must have been watching me because it was too close to be just a lucky shot. The gIass was all over me. I'd had a txt that a couple of choppers were seen parked up just down the next estate turn off; they were trying to conceal them in the bushes but Sweets recognised the ghoulie markings...so I thought I'd better keep my wits about me and a bit later I kept hearing something that sounded like your gate at the side banging so I go to check out the garden and do a quick perimeter check; you know make sure no ones climbed over and going to break in through the back. I did it twice but nothing, so I go back inside and was just doing another glance out the front when it came flying in..."

"Shit!" Exclaimed Veronica "I was just down there like less than half an hour ago... and B, what if it was you, like if you'd gone down to make breakfast or grab a drink or something...it could of.." 

"There's something else too", Quinn continued, he looked sad, staring at the floor "but I'm not sure you'll wanna see this...?"

"Show me" said Betty flatly, her lips formed a tight line and her hands started to curl into fists at her sides. She was upset he was injured, and of course shocked but also angry - this was her home, Jug's second home and what right did they, whomever they were, have to come and terrorise her here. Quinn nodded and sighed "ok..., wait here"

"We should tell him," whispered Veronica once he was out of earshot, her line of sight drifting slight downwards on Betty. She was met with a short, sharp response. "No, You are the only person that knows and I don't want anyone else getting wind of this before Jug.." the conversation was halted quickly as Quinn walked in slowly carrying a house brick in front of him; a small box had duct tape wrapped around it several times over. The tape was torn where he had obviously already explored the contents. He set it down on the floor. "You need to look inside" he swallowed, his face looked grim.

Betty went to approach it first, and the felt Veronica's fingers interlace with her own, pulling her back slightly "we do this together" she stated. The girls took a deep breath, looked each other in the eyes and stepped over to the box that was between them and Quinn's feet. Kneeling down, Betty reached forward and slowly and carefully lifted the lid on the box. She used only her fingertips, barely wanting to make contact with the offending article. As she laid eyes on what was inside, she inhaled sharply, her eyes were like saucers and Veronica hid her scream as her hand shot to cover her mouth. The creature's eyes were like stones; glazed and wide with fear, its grey-black fur was matted with blood all around it's tiny crater of a head, which had obviously endured a heavy object being dropped on it. Death would have been instant for something so small. It's feet and long tail were curled around its limp body to try and protect itself...

Betty immediately shoved the box away from her in disgust and shuffled back away from it, coming to a stop when her back felt the foot of the bed. Veronica was on her feet immediately and cowered by the window, creating as much distance between her and the box as possible. "Wh-what is it?" She stuttered, "it's dead, right? Please tell me it's dead?" 

Betty couldn't speak, her chest heaving.

"It's a rat" Quinn acknowledged flatly, his expression somber.

"Wh-why?" She eventually uttered, hugging her knees to her chest.

"It's a message" he said gravely.

Just at that moment a rumble came from the corner of the room as Betty's phone vibrated and juddered on top her night stand, its bright and cheerful pop song ringtone breaking the silence. Veronica side stepped from the window and, without giving it a second thought, immediately handed it to Quinn. He took it gingerly and walked over and handed it to Betty with a slightly puzzled expression as he recognised the number "um...my girlfriend's calling you...?"

Betty shot her hand forward to intercept the phone and quickly tapped the screen "Hi, Kirsty?..sure, we'll be right there," She hung up and looked at the others "we have to leave, now"

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm so what’s next?   
> More questions... more Jughead next as it’s been a little while since we checked in with him.
> 
> Thanks for continuing to indulge me. I hope this is still enjoyable to read. 
> 
> Thanks for the support, kudos and comments. 
> 
> Take care   
> M x


	16. You're still with me in my dreams, and tonight girl it's only you and me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wondered if he had dozed off. When he opened his eyes he found himself back at his trailer, only now Betty was nowhere to be seen. It didn't phase him much now, he'd learnt just to roll with it in this world and accepted there were some things he could manipulate and others that were just too deep seated to change. On entering the trailer he found her, perched on the far end of the couch with her hands clasped tightly together in her lap. Gone was the confident, more mature and downright horny Betty that was sitting next to him in the car rubbing her hand up and over his crotch whilst impressively keeping a straight line on the road. Now her projection sat looking meek and unsure of herself. It was as if his body and lips were moving of their own accord, and he sat down at the opposite end of the couch. Neither of them looked at each other and he began to script out the words he'd said those few short weeks back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this chapter didn't quite go as I planned it originally but as it's Christmas and this will be the last post of the year, I figured why not end on a little smut and fluffiness. 
> 
> Enjoy 
> 
> Love receiving comments and kudos. Suggestions and theories and discussion welcome. 
> 
> Thanks  
> M x

  
Jughead woke up in a bed that he knew wasn't his own. He was starting to get pretty tired of this routine, this Groundhog Day mental set up; he never thought he'd see the day that he actually longed for the worn out and overly firm mattress in the room he periodically shared with his father back in the trailer - god knows how old it was. His arms rested at his sides. "Stop", Please Stop". He was hit with a twinge of sadness as her voice replayed in his head - Betty! She was in trouble, I had to I tried to get to her, he thought. I have to get back. This is wrong, something happened, I don't know what but it was bad... he wriggled and was relieved to find he was not fastened to the restraints that lay beneath his wrists; he ached all over and his head was throbbing hard. His wrists were rubbed raw. He squinted and resisted looking into the light due to the crushing sensation that pushed down on his brows; absolutely a migraine coming on. What he could hone in on was a couple of non- specific black mould spots on the ceiling in the corner nearest to him, and eventually his gaze extended out past the white bed rails and the grey vinyl floor tiles to the heavy solid wooden double doors at the end of the room. He was alone in the room, In terms of other humans, however his current bed was just one of easily thirty or so regimentally lining the room in rows. The air tasted stale and damp. Broken snippets of two way conversation and footsteps echoed from down the corridor, as an orderly in a white uniform passed by silently pushing a metal trolley full of files. 

He blinked and tried to adjust his eyes as someone approached him. There was an invitation to "come to the common room with the others and watch a film". He cautiously walked the short distance to the double doors, bent forward and posture curling slightly inwards to compensate for the pain. It all seemed too easy. He took a sharp a left and arrived in what he was certain was screen 2 of the bijou. The room was lined with wooden panels, maroon and faded folding chairs and dimly lit, which he was thankful for. He navigated his way to an empty seat towards the back of the room; instantly feeling awash with a sort of gentle ease and recalling his stint at the drive in as he recognised the ticking sound of an old projector and film reel behind him. There was a fairly sizeable audience, although all he could make out really was the silhouettes of the back of the other's heads.

He'd obviously joined the picture part way through he thought; he'd missed any opening credits, title sequence and there was no music setting the tone to confirm his suspicions about the genre of the piece. He watched the camera take its audience through a meandering path of bodies in front of them, and he tried to search the scene in front of him for clues as to whether it was a production he was familiar with - it wasn't. The setting was unremarkable, It could have been a busy street somewhere in New York or London, but the sea of people of all colours and creed stretched the width of the whole frame and obscured the edges of the background. The camera angle didn't reveal the skyline. 

He continued to watch and wait, unable to ascertain where the carved out path was leading him. The characters might as well of been faceless for the fact that none were anyone he knew, or in shot long enough to be recognisable; they were all bustling and hurrying or strolling in the same direction - towards the camera. Wrapped up warm in knitted hats and scarfs, carrying armfuls of paper bags and brightly coloured boxes; a mixture of couples, families with young children, students, drunks, business men & women speaking into their phones or eyes glued to screens. There was a humdrum of hundreds of different conversations and anecdotes filling the speakers, but it was just more white noise to him. Then, about four or five rows ahead Jughead noticed a flash of shimmering golden waves flowing out from beneath a dusky pink thick beret. His heart jumped. 

The cameraman appeared to share the same intrigue as the frame danced from fixed focus in a straight line to panning and darting around, following the female figure whom was navigating her way through the crowds in the opposite direction - the camera searching and following. Sometimes the sea of people would part slightly and he'd catch a glimpse of more of her. From the back he could see she looked cozy in her tan belted trench coat; it looked soft, expensive, maybe a moleskin or a cashmere. Every now and again she would appear to glance over her shoulder, and the woolly pink hat would bounce as she'd try and quicken her pace. It wasn't long before she veered off to the right, pulling in to come to pause at a railing. The cameraman had maintained a stealth-like distance, and from that angle Jughead could make out a junction in the pathway; straight ahead would lead him down an iron staircase, and this seemed to be the source of the main influx of people coming towards the foreground, and to the right would indeed continue onto a bridge over the cobbled street below. He watched as Betty stood and surveyed the layout beneath her for a moment, her grip on the railing looked ever so slightly uncomfortable and her eyes scanning the side streets and shops below. From her near-on side profile, Jughead could make out a smidgen of ditsy print mint chiffon on her blouse and a flash of her long luscious legs under a dark cord skirt. Her boots were a darker brown leather with braided straps over the ankle; knee high but low enough in the heel to be sensible and allow her to run. Mesmerised, he took in how effortlessly glamorous she appeared; he golden waves danced in the light breeze, her cheeks a little flush and dewy from the long brisk walk and her long eyelashes. He always thought she had a natural beauty but looking at her now she was unmistakably 'Old Hollywood', a vintage or sixties starlet, and he was completely glued to the screen in anxious anticipation. 

The camera creeped forward and this time got within a few feet of her, it made him feel uneasy. However she was soon off again. She strolled more confidently and, after reaching the end of the bridge, descended another set of steps - stone this time. Once on the lower level, Jughead noticed the evening shadows and that the street lights were lit. Betty looked slightly more worried and she began searching the side streets; checking and pulling at the doors only find to find them locked and deserted. 

Eventually she stumbled across a mid-terraced stone building with dark green windows. There was no bell when she entered, and she began browsing through the clumsy layout of hanging rails and garment boxes. A soft smile played at her lips as she ran her fingers over the silks and lace hanging from the rails. The camera had been following her and keeping back, ducking behind the door frame before slithering in through the gap, always maintaining the distance. Jughead swallowed at the bile rising in his throat as he watched his girlfriend, oblivious. It was clear to him now this unknown character with the camera was watching her, stalking, planning. It made him sick. He didn't want to just sit and watch the events unfold in front of eyes. He wanted to find her; for all he knew this could be live in this reality or hinting at something going on in the outside. When he could bear it no longer, he made a bolt for the nearest emergency exit. He felt many pairs of eyes on him as he tried repeatedly to push the bar down and open the door. It wouldn't budge. He tried shoulder barging it, again nothing - it was like it was frozen solid. He turned his attention back to the screen, his hand over his mouth. He watched in horror as the stalker revealed his hand, reaching out into shot to pick up a handful of satin and then quickly duck behind a rail when Betty quickly glanced around. He was closer now; within only a few feet, and he couldn't believe that Betty didn't seem aware of this. Clearly she was in her own little world, wistfully admiring and feeling the textures and designs of the delicate garments. She walked over to one of two rails against the back wall of the store, just tucked back slightly behind the desk. A middle aged woman with red streaks in her mahogany hair sat sewing a hem. She smiled at Betty in acknowledgement. 

"Hi, um I'm sorry to interrupt," she said politely, taking a couple steps over to the desk "I'm Ms Cooper, I believe you have an appointment for me." She waited and nervously began to twirl her hair in her fingers. 

The woman pulled open the desk drawer and Betty peered over the desk discreetly as she thumbed through the pages of her diary. " ah, yes," she exclaimed and pushed her spectacles up higher on the bridge of nose, looking up at Betty "I have it here. Ms Lodge was very organised and rang up weeks in advance. She's very precise you know..."

Betty smiled and casually shook her head at mockingly at the description of Veronica. "Oh, believe me i know..." she sighed "I really appreciate you keeping the store open later for me, especially this time of year..."

"It's no bother my dear, we are happy to help, I see you found us ok? No trouble?" 

"A little, but it's just because it's so busy out there". Betty began comparing items, smoothing the black lace trim between her finger tips. She held out garments one after another of midnight blues, purples, blacks and reds. "it's nice and warm in here though, I will take my coat off in a bit...". 

"We also have limited numbers of these ", says the assistant, gesturing to the second rail and holding out a white sheer fabric across her arm "bespoke pieces, handmade - Parisian designer". The camera zooms in, and Jughead himself gasps slightly. 

"Wow" Betty mouths and steps forward. "These are really really beautiful..." 

"Yes Ms Lodge was specific about ordering this particular name for you. I take it she won't be joining us this evening?" 

Betty glanced at her watch. "She said she'd try but she had a shoot last minute...so it's just me for now"

The particular item being showcased was delicate and intricate; pure white and made of soft tulle -classic and elegant, like her he mused. It was ever so slightly risqué as most of it was sheer except for the sporadic lace clusters of tiny flowers adorned with crystals. It had boning around the cups and waist to give it some structure, but no additional padding, and the skirt fell in subtle pleats. It was floaty and enchanting, and Jughead contemplated how stunning she would look in it, and when he peeled her out if it, how it would feel to take her in it. He felt himself harden, uncomfortably restricted by his jeans. He was definitely distracted. Visions clouded his mind of her pressed up against him in it. He would savour running his fingers up her thigh and pushing the tulle up her silky smooth skin to her delectable curved ass. She'd shudder as his fingers would dance around her hip bones, before tentatively walking their way in towards her core. He pictured slowly and teasingly untying the ribbons on the caps of her shoulders and watching the garment gracefully fall to the ground. The tiny crystals that sprinkled through the skirt lying on the floor were a perfect match to the cut of the diamond in her dainty ring on the forth finger of her left hand. He was brought to his senses; all the while she was being followed. 

"Can I....?" 

"Yes by all means, take a few to compare," replied the woman and led her to a changing room at the back of the store. "Let me take your coat". 

The conversation continued through the curtain for a few minutes. Jughead learned that Betty was indeed getting married in just a few short weeks; close to Christmas and she was hoping for snow. He heard the woman reassure her about the understanding from Ms Lodge that they needed to be discreet, and then her gush about how her grandchildren both followed Betty on social media and how she wished she could let the cat out of the bag - apparently this would be ok by Betty but that she must promise to wait until after the wedding as they would be going public then... 

The camera moved to focus on the woman instead. Jughead couldn't comprehend what he was seeing, she must have known whomever it was was there the whole time because she was looking right at him! Jughead blinked in disbelief as she appeared to come to side of him and take him by the arm, she was actually grinning. Then taking an armful of different garments of midnight blues, reds and blush pink from him, they both sat down on the velour love-seat opposite the curtains. A bouquet of yellow roses was placed on the table in front of them. 

"Dear, I went out and got these in case you wanted to some other styles..." 

Jughead watched in a daze as the curtain pleats swayed slightly and Betty's slightly flushed face emerged around the fabric, the curtain hugging her tightly and wrapping around to conceal her chest. She gasped and pulled the curtain into a tighter grip. 

"Shit! Wh-what are you doing here! You can't see me like this, it's bad luck... does V know you're here...? Is that why she's not coming. Stop it It's not funny Arch, somebody could have seen you...!"

He recognised his, now former friend's chuckle. He stepped forward, and Jughead saw he was wearing a Serpent jacket. Next he handed her the bouquet and hugged her through the curtain, before whispering something in her ear that made her giggle and blush even more. 

If Jughead had eaten anything within the last few hours, he was pretty adamant he would have thrown up right there and then. Luckily for him it was at that moment that the screen faded to black, the credits flashed up and, to his utter relief, the emergency exit doors flung open. 

Jughead' head hurt. He had so many questions and tangled thoughts. Archie? What the actual fuck? What kind of cliff hanger was that, is this even a movie - it's more like a really badly written series or sitcom perhaps where they all played themselves? Why the secrecy, where do I fit in to all this? Forget it, Jug. It's a dream remember, projections - Not real...

He stepped outside into the cold winter air and wandered around the side of the building, walking backwards for a beat to be able to take it in better. He recognised it. It reminded him of a small town hall that was tucked away on the border between the North and South side. It was sometimes used during the school holidays and Christmas time for neighbourhood productions and rented out for small family functions. He'd been a spectator a couple of times during their years in elementary school. When she was five Betty had invited him to come watch her ballet recital. When she was ten He discovered Betty wanted to be a singer, and he thought she had the talent to go all the way if she wanted to, and he'd toyed with the idea of drumming for a little while, but eventually he'd found his niche in the sound production and lighting. Inevitably though, they both eventually lost interest - her mother pushing her more into academia. She had told her that the Arts were not the most sensible option and wouldn't pay the bills, and he, well he no longer had any interest in attending and rehearsing if she wasn't there. He found himself at the back of the building. There was a small staircase leading up to a set of sodden double doors, and a few other people smoking cigarettes outside. He took a deep breath and prepared to knock on the door and be let in. But he didn't have to because Betty opened it wide and within a second she smiled widely and threw herself into his arms - he didn't mind of course and was even more pleasantly surprised when he felt her tongue in his mouth. Someone nearby uttered something about them needing to get a room and she giggled into his mouth, her arms still wound tightly around his neck. She was back in her usual attire of skinny sweater and jeans.

"Sorry, I'm so happy you came... oh god I feel like it's been weeks since I've seen you," she squeaked when she finally pulled back to look up at him and came off her tiptoes "did you watch the whole thing, did you enjoy it... it's good for a thriller right, it's got suspense...?"

He froze, not really knowing how to answer that. "Uh, um I watched it yeah I guess," he stuttered "it's just... watching you up there with all that sexy lingerie and the the touching and kissing and... Archie really?" They started to walk towards her car that apparently was parked up the street. She interlinked his fingers with hers, and he noted the absence of the ring.

"It's acting Juggie, please don't get all jealous," she said pouting and cupping to stop him glancing away from her. "Anyway, you'll have to wait and see for the next part won't you, and you know you're the only man for me" she planted another kiss on his lips, softer this time. 

And then, as if on cue, the man of the moment - the Archie Andrews - came running up behind them and tapped her on the shoulder "Betty, are you not coming for drinks with the cast?"

Jughead really wanted to punch him, but he felt Betty slip her arm in under his jacket and pull him closer. "No thanks. I think we are going to get an early night" she said with a wink.

"Don't need to know the details guys... but see you on set in the morning?" 

"You bet," she replied as he turned and jogged back to the group that were huddled smoking outside the building "and learn your lines..." she called after him and was met with a playful "Fuck You" back. She turned her attention back to Jughead and pushed him back up against her car door, and he could feel the shape of her rather pert and firm breasts and hip bones jutting out and pressing into him. "Now come on you...we've got some catching up to do". 

She certainly wanted to be in charge that night it seemed. Her eyes were hungry looking over at him in the passenger seat and there was a permanent smirk on her face. His muscles tensed in surprise as she kept one hand on the wheel and the other landed in his lap. Jughead relaxed a little and lay his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. Betty must have sensed he needed to wind down and so she put on the cd that was still in the player. 

In his mind at that moment Jughead was instantly transported back to when he uploaded the track, sitting on the floor of the tiny trailer's living room with his head against the couch and head phones in. He'd gone inwards again, sitting in the same spot and just listening to words of hurt and angst and love. Whatever thoughts and emotions came up he went with and allowed himself to be consumed. Of course it was around the time Betty and he were isolating themselves off from each other somewhat. Their once easy relationship had become stilted and awkward. He hated it. He knew he screwed up that night but he had to keep her safe, Penny had been crystal clear she was a target and it was the way it had to be then. It was the only way he knew how to protect her, and she deserved so much better anyway he thought. They'd been on borrowed time from the beginning. The days turned into weeks and then weeks into months and still he couldn't get her out of his head, couldn't and didn't want to move on and he hoped and prayed that she didn't either. He'd never fallen out of love with her. It was a necessary evil to keep her from harm. A love that deep doesn't just fizzle out to nothing. The feelings remain. The fantasies of what could be continued and thus more songs were added to his playlist. He wasn't sure why he started it to begin with but after a while it started taking on a life of its own. Some might say it became a sort for addiction or strange obsessive compulsive coping strategy when he couldn't talk to anyone about his feelings and problems. It was like getting a weight off his chest and, hey maybe someday it would become something more to them, a memento of their story or, something she could have to remember him by...

And I know its not to get away from me,  
You just need a change of scenery  
So strange how everything went wrong so fast  
And I hope that this confusion does not last

These words might be, too little too late,  
And I'm afraid that I have already lost you.  
Now three months equals eternity and this will be so hard  
And I will long to hold you in my arms  
And when you ask do you love me  
I shall reply with yes most certainly  
I always hesitate there's something lingering

And I will try harder to be all that I can be  
These words might be, too little too late,  
And I'm afraid that I have already lost you now  
Three months equals eternity and this will be so hard  
And I will long to hold you in my arms

He wondered if he had dozed off. When he opened his eyes he found himself back at his trailer, only now Betty was nowhere to be seen. It didn't phase him much now, he'd learnt just to roll with it in this world and accepted there were some things he could manipulate and others that were just too deep seated to change. On entering the trailer he found her, perched on the far end of the couch with her hands clasped tightly together in her lap. Gone was the confident, more mature and downright horny Betty that was sitting next to him in the car rubbing her hand up and over his crotch whilst impressively keeping a straight line on the road. Now her projection sat looking meek and unsure of herself. It was as if his body and lips were moving of their own accord, and he sat down at the opposite end of the couch. Neither of them looked at each other and he began to script out the words he'd said those few short weeks back. 

"Look I'm going to be apologising for the rest of my life, but I'm sorry. I really am... to feel that I had to shield you from what was going on with me; my darkness or whatever" he scoffed at the thought. 

"I can handle it..." she whispered softly.

"I know," his reply was soft also and he wasn't afraid to make eye contact with her "I know you can".

The two sat silent for a moment, each feeling the invisible magnetism on the cusp of pushing them together again but both holding back, afraid of rejection and more hurt. 

"Um...its getting late I should probably start heading home..." Betty eventually commented.

This was it, he thought, it's now or never. Don't let this pass you by. Jump in - take the risk. It can't be any worse than the agony he'd been going through already. 

"Or you could stay," he let the suggestion hang there for a second and gently gripped a fistful of her dress over her thigh "stay" this time it wasn't a question but more a plead. His eyes had grown darker and more intense with desire and they didn't leave hers. Without saying a word Betty looked up from the floor and leaned in towards him, her eyes flickering towards his lips momentarily. Then she made quick work of climbing over to straddle him and catch his lips with hers. It was like a dam breaking for both of them - they were both hungry & needy for that feeling of coming home to each other. Betty's hands cupped the sides of his face tenderly and she carefully and expertly tugged on his bottom lip with her teeth. He kissed her back, hard and continued to respond with his hands, which up until now were frozen at his sides. He raked his nails up from her hips along her back and, without hesitation, pulled her zip down, exposing her soft porcelain skin of her back right down to that delicious arch just above her bottom. The peach lace slid off her shoulders and bustled around her hips. He paused for a moment to admire her and wonder how he got so lucky. But it didn't last long and he began to attack her neck, her collar bone, her shoulders with his lips, peppering her with kisses lovingly and appreciating every line and curve. He buried his head between her breasts with hot breathy exhales. 

"Wait", she pulled back slightly, but kept her fingers on the buttons on his shirt. "What, what is it." He asked, studying her face looking for any evidence he'd taken things too far.

"Nothing," she whispered and smiled, her gaze full of love and reassurance as her fingers undid another set of buttons "I just want you, all of you...tonight". And just like that they carried on where they left off; any threatening doubts or inhibitions being tossed to the side bit by bit. He kept hold of her tightly against himself, not wanting to drop her, whilst his other hand reached over the couch and grabbed a blanket. He wrapped it around her and hiked her up under her bottom a bit more, wrapping her legs around his waist. They both playfully giggled onto each other's lips. Her dress was tangled up between their bodies and he was close to losing his balance. But ever the gentleman he carefully tried to shuffle off the couch onto his knees and, leaning her backwards with concentration, lower her onto the ground, the blanket protecting her body from any potential grubbiness in the carpet. Betty lay in her nude lace bra with her dress down to her hip bones and looked up at him kneeling in front of her now and he could tell she was just as nervous as he was. They'd never been this far with each other before. Her chest heaved up and down with nerves and Jughead ran a hand through his hair and finished unbuttoning the last of his shirt buttons, his suspenders hanging off his hips. 

"You are so beautiful," he whispered trying to put her at ease "but I think as lovely as this is, it's in the way". Betty complied and lifted her hips up so he could wiggle the garment down over her legs off her toes. He placed her feet down again gently before hovering over her and going in for another kiss to her neck.

"Uh um, I believe you need the catch up mister..." she said between kisses and diverted her gaze between them to his jeans, which by this point were looking far more tight then before. Jughead smirked before travelling lower on her body, licking and peppering kisses on her chest, abdomen, belly button and finally taking the string waistband of her matching panties in his teeth "all in good time Baby..." he breathed. He paid some more special attention to the skin around her bikini line and sloping towards her core and was thrilled at the effect it had on her. 

"You've never called me that before..." she replied

"What?" He asked, between kisses " baby? Is that ok, if it's not I can..."

"No. I kinda like it. But just when it's just us"

He loved watching the subtle little shifts in her hips as she rolled and writhed under his mouth, unable to control the sensations taking hold of her. He also knew that the little mews and appreciative noises that were leaving her lips were going to tip him over the edge soon, and he wanted to make sure she was taken care of first. Betty was hesitant, he could tell that she knew what he wanted to do, she caught him looking up at her from between her thighs under his lashes more than a couple of times. She knew he was asking permission, but she was being shy about it, feeling exposed and maybe insecure.

"Betts, I really want to..."

"Are you sure...? I mean I've never done anything..."

"Hey it's ok. I haven't either, baby, but it's supposed to...help and feel really nice," he said coming up to hover over her again " but if it's too much we don't..."

"Ok," she whispered "but not here, can we go to your room?"

He nodded and, taking hold of both her hands, pulled her to her feet. She popped up with a bounce and he immediately squatted down to pick her up under her bottom again. "Mmmm this feels familiar" he grinned.

"Well lets hope we don't get interrupted this time" she said with a playful peck on his nose.

Jughead carried her the few feet to the bedroom and dropped her flat on her back on the bed before bolting to the front door "lights off, we're not home, and...door locked" he stated and tossed the key on the table before climbing back to his spot knelt between her thighs. "Now where were we?"

"You can touch me..." she said coyly "but I want you up here with me, more kissing please" he smiled, obeyed her request and travelled up her body with his lips, before coming to rest by her side and tucking an arm under her neck with care not to catch her hair. He did have better access to touch and caress her from there, and she seemed to feel more at ease. He nibbled at the pulse point behind her ear, as her hands found tufts of his hair and she tugged and pulled on it. His free hand ventured lower and he began teasing underneath her panties, smoothing her with circles; small and slow at first over her swollen bud and then increasing. She inhaled a tiny, sharp gasp of air as her breath caught for a second from the new level of intensity. She was so sensitive over that spot. The circles grew larger before he changed direction and got braver; stroking just inside her and coming back to the start again and coating her with her own juices. 

"Juggie..oh my god, oh my god, yes hmmm" She was getting breathless and close, but holding back and he noticed the little shudders vibrate through her petite frame. She opened her thighs wider for him, pleading and straining for more. She rolled her hips involuntarily towards his hand. He very much enjoyed watching her come undone and hearing his name fall from her lips, and her body smelled incredible to him; like sweat mixed with something else he'd not experienced before - sweet and he didn't know what else but god it was intoxicating. If he wasn't careful he wasn't going to be able to hold it together much longer.

"Please... now can I?" He whispered longingly in her ear. Her response was a breathy "yes", and he kissed her hard and passionately on the mouth in acknowledgment. "Thank you" he sighed. His eyes roamed over every curve and contour of her as he made his way south again. The panties were quickly discarded to the floor and she arched her back high for him to reach around and unclasp her bra strap. As any teenage boy would be, he was suddenly mesmerised by her now free breasts and complete nakedness laid out in front of him. God she was stunning; her skin so taught and glowing and nipples hard and erect from the sudden chill. He could make out the faint line of definition in her abs from her sternum to her belly button. "Do you have any idea just how amazingly hot you look right now, you are so... beautiful". Her chest was flushed pink and her hands were laying above her head, surrendering to him. 

Jughead paused when he got there, his mouth just on the edge of her entrance. She arched off the bed at his hot breath flowing over her core, and then without warning or a word uttered he dove his tongue inside her. She gasped again " oh fuck!l" she moaned with pleasure as he drew figure of eights inside and then came out again, lapping up her arousal and giving her clit the same special treatment. She liked it he could tell, but he wanted to push her further. So he repeated the same routine and the began to use his finger at the same time; first one digit, then two. He made come hither motions inside against her walls and she screamed out. It was music to his ears, and as the music got louder her movements started to become more desperate. She bucked her hips into his face and he hit right on that oh so sensitive spot. He loved watching her go absolutely crazy like it was too much but she still needed more or she might actually die. Betty was on a precipice and it turned him on hugely. His cock was incredible uncomfortable now and he could feel the wetness seeping through his boxers. He carried on his sweet assault and lapped and licked every drop of the nectar that spilled out of her. He inserted another finger, and felt her walls clench him and contract in spasms "fuck! Juggle... oh god, oh yes yes" she grabbed and tugged on his hair for dear life like she was going to fall if she didn't. "Stop, stop please..." she cried between ragged breaths "I don't, I don't... I wanna finish with you"

He wriggled off the bed and quickly shoved down his jeans and boxers before coming to lie tucked in tightly by her side again. "Wow, that was... that was...," she breathed and clawed both her hands through her hair, smoothing it out like a halo around her. She came over embarrassed and "i'm sorry... was it ok"

Jughead laughed under his breath "I fucking loved doing that to you, and what do you think?" he said with a grin on his soaking wet face and crashed his lips into hers. "Are you ok, Baby do you want me to give you a sec?"

She answered him by rolling over to her side and pressing her belly and hips into his body, hitching her leg up over his hip so she was near on lying on top of him. They were extremely close now and lined up perfectly, skin on skin, and she began to rock herself up over his length and catch him between her folds. But god it felt amazing. They didn't want to unlock lips, their tongues explored each other's mouths as each of them fought for dominance. They'd pause for a beat here and there, their mouths still open on each other and simply breathe each other's breaths. It was intense and hot as hell. He pressed the roundness of his throbbing head back and forth along her core, brushing over her clit again and again. He knew he wasn't going to last much longer. She began to make that music again. He steadied himself and held back, they were getting close to crossing that threshold now. He had to stop the tip slipping inside before she was ready. "Betty, I don't want to hurt you" he said glancing away.

"I can handle it" she replied and kissed him again, but it was much more intimate. She softly pressed her lips to the inside of his, cupping his face with both hands. He held himself there for what seemed like a century, until he couldn't and he had to and he was inside her. He went as slowly as he could manage; a fraction at a time, "oh, oh, oh" her ragged little breaths came out short and fast and he blinked his eyes when he saw her squeeze her eyes tight shut. She was in pain. "I'm sorry, baby. If you want me to stop..."

"No, no it's ok... please just go slow its good" she panted and nodded for him to continue. He was gentle and slow, and gradually she became less tense and he felt her shoulder drop and her arms and legs relax. She showed him she was feeling better by pulling him closer. They locked eyes for a moment, each thinking the same thought, and he carefully rolled her over his bottom hip so her unhitched leg was now lying between his thighs and they were completely tangled up in each other. Betty cried out as they braved going deeper than they had before. "Woah" she breathed again and this time he couldn't speak or move, his mouth frozen in a 'O' shape. Betty buried her head in the crook of his neck and sucked softly. "I love you" she breathed against his skin. Jughead felt the brand new sensation of blood pumping through every cell in his body, not just his cock, and suddenly he jumped back "Betty, I'd better put something on".

He left her laying there, completely ready for him whilst he took care of the protection side of things, and then they went back to where they left off. He slid in without so much hesitation this time, and Betty invited him back with kisses and wrapped her legs around his back. "Oh fuck Betts!" He grunted "fuck, oh god, yes, oh god Jesus Fuck" He could thrust better from that angle and she moaned and mewed and gasped her way to her orgasm along with him. He wasn't far behind and he was suddenly overwhelmed with a pressure building from deep inside his stomach and rushing to his head. He closed his eyes and swore he could see star exploding behind them as his cock convulsed violently and her walls grabbed hold like a vice. He started to pant as his breathing hitched and his chest heaved and his heart raced to the finish line. He couldn't stop it if he tried, and then he collapsed on top of her. "Are you ok?" he asked into her neck.

"Do you really have to ask... that was amazing, where did you... how did you know how to..."she replied, panting and getting her breath back.

"Hey, I read you know and I really really wanted to do that ...just being polite, make sure my baby's taken care of" he said with a kiss in her head.

They stayed like that, still connected, for many cycles of deep breaths. Just them. Nothing penetrating from behind that locked door. It was bliss. Oh how he wished they could just remain that way whilst the rest of the world turned. He peeled her off him gently and disconnected himself from her. "I love you so much," he said and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear so he could get a better view of her pretty face, which was flushed and slightly glistening from their their activities "i'm sorry about having to, you know, I didn't wanna stop but...as much I love you Betty... well, I don't think either of us want babies just yet". 

"Agreed," she giggled "but...Juggie yet?, does that mean you, uh think about stuff like that?"

"Um, kinda yeah. Is that weird?"

"No it's very sweet" she sighed and pulled him in closer. "You're trembling. Are you cold?"

"Betts..." he replied his eyes wide with sudden embarrassment, which he quickly covered with humour "didn't realise you, uh noticed" 

"No!... " she squealed and stifled a giggle "I didn't mean that I just meant... I, hmm never mind. I'm going to the bathroom and then because I am cold I suggest we get back in here and stay under the covers"

They got back in bed and she snuggled up laying on his chest, and in no time at all he heard her breathing deepen and he knew she'd fallen asleep. She was so cute, and he felt a pang of disappointment knowing she'd have to go home. A locked door wasn't going to deter Alice Cooper, the woman would probably send in sherif Keller with a battering ram if she didn't have Betty back at home before midnight. Jughead reached over to the night stand for her phone, checked the time, set an alarm for thirty more glorious minutes and allowed himself to nod off. He swore to himself he was going to marry her some day. 

*

To be continued.... 

  



	17. Reminiscing and Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It felt like there was more he wanted to add but Betty didn't answer, she couldn't blame the guy for trying with her it was just that she was so tired and try as she might she couldn't keep her mind from twirling around all sorts of different possible scenarios for all the trouble. And now there was this message in addition to it all. Usually when her mind was racing she'd have her loving boyfriend right by her side going through everything with her whilst she jotted it all down on one of her many yellow legal pads. He'd have just as much enthusiasm as her; pacing around, hands raking through his hair for answers. They'd know what each other were thinking - they were partners, two sides of the same coin. But he wasn't there and she felt overwhelmed with all the deconstructed pieces dancing around. The worrying implication of any one of the scenarios she concocted was just one of more uncertainty and potential chaos. Whatever it was, it wasn't over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all
> 
> I hope you are all still with me? I'm really enjoying creating on here. Thanks for all the comments and kudos; I can't tell you how much they lift me up! I've been so engrossed in reading everyone else's awesome works on here that it's been so easy to procrastinate and push back writing my own - that and a major house move...
> 
> Without further adue, here is the next (fairly overdue) chapter in the story. There's going to be some things exhumed, long since forgotten and buried, Betty makes a couple of new friends and we learn that there is yet more to come for our beloved Jughead Jones....
> 
> Disclaimer - characters in this story are fictional and I do not own Riverdale. The content of this chapter includes a lot medical terminology and details about various conditions and pathology. It should not be taken as fact; it is from personal experience and I am not a medic. I do not wish to offend or upset anyone, so apologies if this is triggering. 
> 
> Take care xxx

Reminiscing and Revelations

  
Betty rocked on her heels and chewed her bottom lip nervously, torn. She knew she had to leave soon; Kirsty's ever optimistic voice bouncing around inside her head made sure she didn't forget. "the consultant needs a little while to chat to both you and FP... it's not anything to be really concerned about in that it's not life or death but it's better to talk about face to face and there may be questions you want to ask..." the phone call had left her stomach churning with the horror of what the next unknown was going to be, and she'd needed two more bathroom stops after that. Departure time couldn't come around quick enough, but leaving their family home exposed and open like that, the thick curtains wafting in and out of the gaping hole in the side of the house where the third pane of glass used to be, felt irresponsible and wasn't doing anything to lessen the sickness. There was still work to do, but in her current condition, Veronica had simply forbidden Betty to be able to physically contribute in any way that could entail risk or mild peril, as she put it oh so dramatically. Oh god, it was going to be a long few months. So she was ordered to get changed, pack her bags and wait outside, like a child. Betty let out a groan; decision made, she turned on her heels and started to walk back towards the door. Quinn returned a moment later through the kitchen archway and removed the thick padded gardening gloves he was wearing. "That's the last of the larger pieces," he reported and went to wash his hands in the sink. 

Veronica got to her feet from her current station on hands and knees on the floor, brushing up minuscule fragments of glass out of the rug and underneath the sideboard. Betty would never admit it to her friend but she was unsure if Veronica had ever endured anything like normal household chores in her life. Her silky raven locks were tied up loosely in one of Betty's bandanas, and she had traded her usual choice of park avenue attire for a pair of Betty's 'painting/mechanic job jeans'. She halted her friend by planting her hands on her shoulders to try and steer her back towards the car "uh uh we've been over and over this, B. You've got to get to the hospital and I will take care of the clean up..."

"V..." she whined in frustration, taking her friend's hands off her shoulders " ok fine, I know I've got to go but just, at least wait for Archie to get back before going off anywhere on your own...oh and for getting our stories aligned..."

Veronica sighed swiftly smiled a knowing smile at the blonde; this was Betty, she was fiercely protective over her friends and family but she also had this chronic need to be in control and wasn't going to be sidelined - if there was organising to be done she would be all over it. The salute was in jest and her sweetness didn't waver as she recited back the instruction set out for her, "number one, no Police, number two, sit tight and keep calling Archie then we both need to go next door and speak to Fred, the Serpent guy with the second hand conservatories and double glazing is Chase, Fred's got his number...see" Betty replied with a tight hug, but pulled back when she felt Veronica sigh over her shoulder...

"What is it..?" She asked 

"I just," she started, pulling back "I still don't see why we shouldn't just report it - you know that's what Mr Andrews will want to do. They've already had cops asking about the attack.."

Betty opened her mouth to explain, again, but it was Quinn that beat her to it "because if there's one thing the Clubs hate it's a snitch, or was that box not clear enough... we can't. It's simple. So we stick to the story. You and Red were out for a walk after we left to get Betty to the hospital, you came home and found it like this... must have been kids and they legged it."

"You really think that's believable, given the events of this week already.."

"Doesn't matter if it is or it ain't, it sends the message that we are not rats. If no one is talking there's no more ammunition. They'll be watching us, waiting fir one of to break...plus the Pigs won't have anything to go on so they won't be sniffing around the Serpents whilst we conduct our own investigation - savvy?" 

"Crystal" Veronica replied with a polite smile and tilt of her head. But Betty knew she still didn't like it. Quinn merely grunted in response and walked off, muttering something about doing another perimeter check. "What's he so grumpy about, seriously..." Betty mouthed a "sorry" and the girls hugged again "now you call me if you need me to come and get you if it gets too much, ok girl...and there's always a space at the Pembroooke, and don't worry I'll happily share my boudoir and won't have you sleeping in the guest room"

Betty thanked her again and was just about to grab a bag to walk down to the car, when Veronica stopped her and insisted she again not have to lift a finger. Betty giggled and started to protest and then she heard someone calling their name from outside. Even in the midst of all the chaos and building threat that seemed to follow her and Jughead around, she could still rely on her bestie to keep her chin up and help her carry on.

Archie Andrews bounded up the steps, no longer in his running gear and clearly had taken a shower. "What's up Ronnie, I've had like twelve missed calls from you just this morning... what's going on? Has something happened with Jughead? Why are you all standing out here..." it was then his vision panned around to the side of the house and he dropped the paper bags of take-out Pop's breakfast he was carrying "Oh Shit! What the hell happened?" He asked, frantically. "Are you guys ok? Betty, you good? Did someone hurt you?"

With terrible timing, the tattooed older serpent came out of the house. He had politely picked up another of Betty's bags along the way; Archie had found a target for his frustrations for the moment. Quinn easily had another 50lbs on Archie but clearly this didn't bother the boy; he lunged at the man, grabbing him by the collar and shoving him backwards. "What the hell, man!" He shouted in his face "how could you let this happen, dude, where were you...?"

"Archie, Stop!" The girls shouted in unison and Veronica came to stand next to the ruckus. She tried to prise Archie's hands off "cool it."

There was no turn taking or polite back and forth; everyone seemed to be trying to get their words in first. Quinn wasn't particularly phased, and amazingly seemed to keep his composure and physically didn't retaliate - clearly he'd experienced worse, and although he knew Archie just needed to vent, that didn't mean he wasn't insulted by the kid. "I'm sorry, where was I? How about you, mate? I don't see you showing up for any kind of model boyfriend duty, nice run was it?" He practically spat at him.

"Arghh," Betty screamed through gritted teeth in frustration and launched her own attack at him. She was still pretty cheesed off about their altercation this morning and the way he belittled and trivialised her thoughts and feelings. " I'm sick of this, Jughead is fighting for his life and I need to be there and you two are at each other's throats...Archie, don't get shirty with him - at least he was here... and where have you been, Archie, all this time...? and don't say running, I know you could have done fox forest six times over in all that time..."

Veronica chimed in then too "yes, so whilst you were off doing, oh I dunno, training for the New York City Marathon?... or whatever?" She tapped lightly on Quinn's bicep and looked up him in a way that could only be described as flirtatious, and Archie's brows furrowed. "He took the hit for us and he's been helping clean up the mess"

Archie let go of his grip and let out a breath, they had a point. He wasn't there when he should have been. But it didn't mean he had to pander to the guy.

"I was training, but yeah I had some shit to take care of too, and I thought maybe we could all do with a Pops breakfast...peace offering?" Quinn's eyes narrowed and it didn't go unnoticed by Betty. She gestured towards the window and took a deep breath to slow her breathing down.

"Someone put a brick through the window, Archie. And they weren't even concerned about wanting to wait until dark first! It's a weekday even; our neighbours are getting ready to commute to work and kids are usually out on their bikes, it's summer! Anyone could have seen them. We heard their bikes." 

"Ok well we'll start there. Maybe my Dad saw something, or Mrs Finch across the street..."

"There was something else too..." Betty sighed and looked at Quinn, he nodded.

"We have a game plan, Archiekins. I'll fill you in. You'd better come with me," said Veronica gently and led him into the house "Quinn? Where did you put the box?"

  
*

Betty slid into the front passenger seat and tugged the seatbelt down and around her carefully and clicked it in place. Quinn pulled her father's saloon away from the curb, and Betty breathed a sigh of relief; she was happy to leave her two friends to it and finally be making the trip to the hospital. Neither said a word for a few moments. Betty felt a little on edge, there was a coldness about him that wasn't there the night before. Betty resigned herself to a quiet car journey for the next thirty or so minutes and gazed out the window. 

"I'm sorry about back there", he said suddenly "that kid's a hot head right? He always like that?"

"He's just got a lot going on, we all have...but no, he shouldn't have laid into you like that" she replied as she gazed lazily out the window, her tiredness catching up on her already and the nausea building. She realised in all the commotion she hadn't eaten much of a breakfast. She rolled down the window, hoping the blast of fresh oxygen would help.

"I can handle myself, and I don't make a habit of beating up kids...hope you don't mind me being the designated driver today, FPs orders...it's just in case you know, can't be too careful". 

It felt like there was more he wanted to add but Betty didn't answer, she couldn't blame the guy for trying with her it was just that she was so tired and try as she might she couldn't keep her mind from twirling around all sorts of different possible scenarios for all the trouble. And now there was this message in addition to it all. Usually when her mind was racing she'd have her loving boyfriend right by her side going through everything with her whilst she jotted it all down on one of her many yellow legal pads. He'd have just as much enthusiasm as her; pacing around, hands raking through his hair for answers. They'd know what each other were thinking - they were partners, two sides of the same coin. But he wasn't there and she felt overwhelmed with all the deconstructed pieces dancing around. The worrying implication of any one of the scenarios she concocted was just one of more uncertainty and potential chaos. Whatever it was, it wasn't over.

She tried to shut it all out "I'm sorry, I just want to leave that, all of that, back there..." she sighed "can we talk about something else, I just need a distraction"

"Go ahead"

"So tell me more about Kirsty, how long have you been together I don't know how you guys met..."

He looked surprised for a moment but at the mention of his significant other his expression softened and to Betty's surprise he actually started to chuckle. They were older than her and Jughead, probably by about ten years, and Betty figured when two people had been together as long as she assumed the 'how we met story' became somewhat of a well rehearsed bit and each had their own favourite parts. 

"What can I say about Kirst? She's a star. We've been on and off, more on than off though, for about seven years. She used to work at Halos. I'd been working the door for a couple of years and she was new. She worked there to earn some money whilst going through nursing college..." Betty gaped, she wasn't exactly sure what to expect, but it wasn't that. 

He continued "I know, right? You wouldn't immediately think 'exotic dancer' to look at her. But then again you've only see her in scrubs I bet" he smirked devilishly. "She came in with this background in gymnastics and dance - I'll never forget the first time I saw her audition routine on the aerial hoop... she set it to Pink Floyd, one of their earlier trippy ones from Dark side, man they hired her like that!" He clicked his fingers. "She was amazing. Still is... anyways so we got to talking and got to know each other a little better, we both loved surfing and she wanted to travel. I was falling for her. But...we had to be friends first, I wasn't exactly available and she wasn't interested coz I was already with Candy"

"Candy?" Betty asked, raising her eyebrows and trying to stifle a giggle.

"It's her stage name alright," he smiled and chucked "her real name is Hannah. We had a thing..." he gestured with his hands, hoping Betty would understand what he was hinting at.

"Oh? Oh?.."

"Hmmm, it was just sex really. She's nice I mean but there wasn't much in the way intellectual conversation with us, you know or much in common to talk about? So then not long after that Hannah got pregnant and she had my little boy...and Kirsty and I stayed friends. Surprisingly her and Han get on well too. Anyway she dated some other people and Hannah and I got really stupid, and drunk, very drunk, and ended up agreeing to get married... Parker was around about one and it seemed a good idea at the time. I got a mutual bunch of mates and one of them officiated in her parents' back yard"

"Wow Okay..."

"Yeah...lasted about four months! then we separated, again, and, I dunno Kirsty and I just carried on where we left off like i can't believe we haven't been doing this this whole time. Parker's eight now..."

"Wow, so you had him young then..." Betty asked and noticed how he lit up and became so much more animated when taking about his family. It warmed her heart.

"Yeah it was tough. Money was tight...but it weren't all bad, he's cool as fuck, and so much fun. But A total terror and him and Kirst, she's so amazing with him. We get him every other weekend and occasionally one day in the week," he explained, and Betty could detect a slight sadness when he spoke again "we never had any of our own"

"So did Kirsty have a stage name?" Asked Betty brightly, trying to steer the topic back to something less heavy.

"Yep. Pretty predictable I suppose, given her hair colour - Ruby"

"Well better than Candy..."

"Yeah that she is...speaking of which, I better go get my girl" he said as pointed out the gates to Riverdale General "we've made it m'lady, tell boss man unscathed and all in one piece. FP wants the car left for you, do you want me to come in or should I just park up and leave you to it?"

Betty hesitated a moment, she kept her gaze fixed forward out the windscreen and made no move to open the door. 

"Um, should I be opening the door for you as well or something, he chuckled "hey, Betty he's gonna be ok you know, whatever news the doctors have today..." Betty could sense it had been a while since he'd been around someone, other than his girl, on the brink of tears. He tried to make light of the situation, but clearly he was just digging himself an even bigger hole, "its, it's like ripping off a bandaid..."

"It's not that," she replied, saving her companion any further embarrassment. And it wasn't that at all, something or someone else was causing her anxiety to kick in. Her eyes were scanning the parking lot and trying to peer through the opening in automatic doors to the lobby. She didn't want to run into him. "Um do you think we can go in another way; maybe there's a staff entrance or something at the back?"

He asked her if she was ok and she gave him a line about feeling self-conscious "I think if someone else asks me if I'm ok, the floodgates are gonna burst" she sighed.

"Betty?" He turned key in the ignition and the car rumbled to a stop "If someone or something's upset you, you can tell me"

She could. She could just let it all come tumbling out, right there to her completely unprepared minder in the middle of the car park with the hazard lights blinking away, but instead she opted to clutch at the first straw she could think of. "There's just a lot going on and I think... I don't know maybe I'd feel better if I knew who was watching today - no offence, but...I only know a handful of the Serpents and there's someone new every day."

"I do know the answer to that," he said and punctuated the last word with point of his finger, before checking his phone. "It's Sweets and Toni today, that meet your approval?"

"Yes that's fine" she breathed out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

"Betty," he pressed again and gently placed a hand on her shoulder "if you don't want to talk to me, I get that. But you've got Kirsty's number, and the Lodge girl and believe it or not Toni's actually alright..."

The car behind them beeped in annoyance and pulled around to overtake them. "Fuck's sake, how much fucking room does she want..." he scoffed "sorry, ok well I've already filled in FP on the window and all that stuff. I'll do a drive by with Kirst on the way home to see how the repair is getting on. But then I'm afraid lil lady that me and the Mrs will be going to sleep because to tell you the truth I'm bloody whacked, and she's had a long shift too..." 

Betty was grateful Quinn decided to park up and walk in with her - the bags for Jughead and her own were weighing her down. They were about a quarter of the way across the parking lot when Betty clocked the young red-headed nurse walking out towards them. Her maroon curls were still crazy as ever, but she'd pulled them up loosely into a half-up style. The scrubs had been traded for a pair of dark figure hugging skinny jeans and ugg boots. She looked completely different, and younger. Her tan leather jacket was tucked in under her arm and Betty could see the 'v' shape of her top half; she was remarkably well toned and her waist was tiny. She smiled at the white Top Gun slogan tank-top.

"Hiya," she called out and waved with her free hand. "Hi, Betty, I see you met my Quinn...small world isn't it" she said and josh pecked him on the shoulder. She was literally half his size, and Betty thought it was so cute when he wrenched her in close to his side with one arm. 

"You ok babes?" He asked and kissed the top of her head. "Long shift?" It made Betty's heart ache; Jug liked to do that too. 

"Yeah, it's been a rough one, two more into critical last night - on Black alert for beds again on the other wards. It's always the same discharge, discharge...oh sorry Betty I'm talking shop"

"It's ok"

"You're not working tonight right big man?" She asked, looking up at him, still tucked into his side - if she was any tinier she could probably fit in his pocket, Betty thought with amusement. 

"Nope" he replied with a popping sound and a grin "just dropping this one off and then I. Am. All yours, and... kid free till tomorrow..."

"Hmm, great," she nuzzled in a bit more "But first..." she pulled away and looked up at him with puppy eyes. "Sweetheart?"

"What do you want," he replied in a grumpy tone mockingly "you do that, you know I know you want something when you get all high pitched and soft"

"Could you do just one last thing for Betty please, these bags look heavy and she could use a hand. Becky will let you into Jug's room if you buzz the intercom. You know where right?"

"Yes m'am" He huffed but then playfully smacked her on the ass before he picked up both bags on one hand and stalked off, leaving the girls alone. 

"So how are you doing today, Betty?" She asked sympathetically "I hope I didn't worry you this morning with my call. The consultant wanted to make sure you and FP were both in today" Kirsty explained. "I promise it's nothing to panic immediately about but he needs a chat..."

"It's ok, I mean, I'm ok I think. Just any calls I get from the hospital right now are sending my mind off spiralling"

"Sure, sure. It's fine. I'm sorry I'm. It allowed to say more. Like I said I didn't wanna scare you". After a beat she asked "so uh, still being sick? Do we know?"

Betty's brain had been trying to sort through so many other issues; the brick, the message with it, the pervert serpent she didn't want to see, the consultant chat, there hadn't been room to dwell on the other events of the previous night; the baby. She exhaled hard as the image of the positive test filled her head. "Hmm we know. And yes, I am" she breathed.

"Awww Betty," she squealed just like Veronica did and locked her in tightly into a hug. She was freakishly strong for her petite frame. Betty wasn't expecting to be jumped on she didn't have time to free her arms and hug back and so instead they stayed clamped to her sides. It was quite comical really, and Betty relaxed and giggled at what the scene must have looked like. "Sorry, sorry, it's just... eeek" she continued as she freed Betty, practically flapping with excitement. "aww I'm so happy for you, honey. Ok so I'm not on again till next week but I can ask Becky to do your baseline bloods... or on second thought you may want to just book in with the OBGYN... ooh" she gestured to zip up her lips tight as Mr muscles reappeared striding across the parking lot. "Right, yeah so hope all goes well today and I'll be sleeping probably now for the next day or so but feel free to message me if you want and we can chat when I surface again..." she rubbed her arm again "awww..." and then directed her attention back to her partner "ready to go, Mr?"

"Yep, see ya round Betty", he said as the two linked fingers and began their walk to the back car park. Betty heard him enquire "so what was that all about" and thankfully she simply replied with "my lips are sealed".

*

When Betty got inside that that morning she was concerned to find an anxious looking FP waiting for her inside the lobby. Apparently for confidentiality for the other patients on the ward, they had to wait for the junior doctors' handover to be done on the ICU ward and that was why FP had been asked to vacate the floor and why the consultant had chosen this particular time of day to catch up with them both. She and FP parked up sat side by side in the same waiting room from that night, on the same plastic chairs, waiting for news. Betty couldn't decide which was worse this or the relatives room. At least it was calmer this time. The outpatients department was just off the lobby and, so Betty would come to learn, were the consultants' offices where they would be meeting with the one overseeing Jug's case. Betty occupied herself people watching whilst they waited; anything to create a distraction, and FP seemed in no mood for chit chat just yet either. She observed his knee bouncing up and down nervously as he sat elbows on his knees.

"Shouldn't be too much longer," He assured her "how you doing today, Quinn told me about all that business at home..."

"I've been, as well as to be expected I suppose, considering...everything. I just want to know what's going on..." Betty replied.

"I know Sweet, me too"

Betty took a deep breath, gently closed her eyes momentarily and they sat quiet for a moment. Finally a middle aged man in tweed suit appeared. "Forsyth Jones?" He called. She noted the thick British accent; Betty wasn't sure, but Oxford perhaps? He ushered them to follow him along the corridor to his office.

Once they were inside the man cleared his throat and offered his hand in greeting "I'm Dr Bharat, I'm a neurology consultant on Forsyth's case. It is nice to meet you, Mr Jones, Forsyth's father I understand sir?" He was extremely well spoken and his diction was overly clear and well practiced but there was a sort of grandfatherly warmth about him.

"Yes," FP smiled and shook his hand. He attempted to stifle a chuckle at the formality; no one called him 'Mr Jones' and certainly Forsyth was not a name used often "call me FP please. And Forsyth goes by Jughead"

Dr Bharat cleared his throat again and then turned his attention to Betty and again offered a hand shake "And...Forsyth's sister?"

"Um, uh..." Betty blinked and stammered at the idea and started to respond but FP stepped in a corrected him; "This is Betty'" he said and put his hands gently on her shoulders "they're engaged".

"I beg your pardon, young lady..it's a pleasure," he replied with a smile "Have a seat". He gestured to the racing green leatherette backed chairs opposite him, and clasped his hands together softly on the desk in front of him. Betty leant forward In anticipation, whilst FP slouched back slightly with his arms folded tightly and still in his jacket. "Thank you for coming to see me, I think it's always better to do these types of consultations in person," Dr Bharat said politely as they each sat down opposite him. "I am so sorry for what has been such an ordeal for you all... I hope we can look to make things better. Right, I'm going to say firstly that I can report his recovery is going well; we were able to expedite his MRI Brain to the early hours of this morning and we can see already from this that the swelling is reducing as one would expect. The intracranial pressure that was raised when he came in is also now within normal limits, so this is also reassuring..." 

"But you didn't call us down here this morning just for that, right?" Betty was quick off the mark as usual.

The doctor slowly took off his spectacles and rubbed the end of the arm between his finger and thumb. If he was annoyed at her quick snap response, he did well to hide it. Something was coming. He exhaled and cleared his throat yet again. "No, you are of course correct. Hmm... this is a complex case. We did an MRI scan when he came in to evaluate the head trauma injury, once he was more stable. As I explained, we did another last night, along with an EEG... that's what the electrodes you will see on his scalp are for... we believe the event that Betty witnessed yesterday was indeed a seizure. The team were proactive in assessing him, and I'm told that it resolved on its own, which again is reassuring. But he did go to have another event overnight and there was something we feel needs further investigation..."he began typing on the keyboard and turned the screen through ninety degrees to face them better. Betty could see he was reviewing a written report in one window and there was another window open in the background showing rows and rows of continuous and varying waves and spikes going left to right.

Betty felt a pang of something jump in her chest at his words, he had another event, what does that mean? she did her best to hold on and not spiral into a full panic. She gripped the arm of the chair tightly.

"What are we looking at here,?" FP enquired and rubbed his lips together, puzzling the data.

"This is reporting Fors..Jug-head's electrical activity in the brain right now, and we've been getting readings since last night. The area in question is very small and only over the left temporal lobe region here" he turned his head to the side and stroked what little hair he had just behind his ear. "Different areas of the brain control functionality in different ways and different parts of the body; this area for example is close to the language centres and it's also associated with processing emotions, sensory information and memory storage. Now It's not uncommon for EEGs to have abnormal readings, and an abnormal pattern alone is not an indication of whether someone has epilepsy or not for example..."

  
FP jumped in almost instantly; "woah, woah, wait Doc, Jug doesn't have epilepsy"

"No, that's not what I'm necessarily saying Mr Jones, and he has only had one seizure during his time here... we can see that it started here in left temporal lobe and then we can see the activity must have spread to the other regions before it became a secondary generalisation. Now, some people will always have continuous abnormal readings, even when they appear to be functioning completely normally and are not having seizures...but it can also be indicator of other potential issues " he continued. 

FP scoffed slightly and shrugged,"doc, English please..."

"My apologies. It means it started in one place and spread like wild fire until his entire brain was effected. Imagine it like everything is firing all at once and the cells get overly excited. Betty would have noticed all his muscles tense and then the shaking after once it had spread all over... it's what we call a focal onset seizure, whereas when one simply goes straight into an absence or drops to the floor and begins convulsing, that's when the abnormal electrical activity hits every area all at once - a bit like a short circuit on the whole of the motherboard... but the EEG findings also tie up with the MRI images, which were noted to be inconclusive but suggestive of an anomaly in that area also"

"I'm sorry..." FP fidgeted with his hands, not knowing what to do with them and trying to make sense of what he was hearing "what do your mean abnormal. What does all this mean?"

"I'm sorry, Doctor," Betty spoke softly and popped her hand on FPs shoulder "it's a lot of terminology and we're just...it's a lot to take in"

"I understand it feels like a further blow, but I'm going to say this now to put you at ease; it's not a tumour or a space occupying lesion or anything like that - it doesn't share the same characteristics in imaging and his bloods have no red flags. I don't want you to worry that it's something really urgent or sinister...his vitals are good and, aside from the reduced levels of consciousness, he remains stable. But we needed a second opinion on this so I asked our neuroradiologist to take a look... " Betty focussed in on the screen again when grey and white images of her boyfriend's brain scan filled the whole screen. Dr Bharat pointed out a small area where the borders of each section seemed to blur into each other. He compared it to the other lobe, and Betty could see the left was indeed more hazy. "It could be a cause for concern, so we need to try and ascertain whether this is a new finding that has been caused by the assault or been exacerbated by it...in which case we then need to be cautious with his treatment going forwards and continue to monitor it for further changes. We were hoping to start the process of weaning him off the ventilator and anaesthesia..."

"Well that's good news, right?" Betty said brightly and with hope. 

"It is yes, to a degree. But like I said I think we now need to be cautious and perhaps give things a bit more time... one's brain is much like one's finger print you see. We are all individuals and with technology advancing so much now we are far better at spotting abnormalities and defects than we were ten, twenty years ago; It could well be that there are literally tens of thousands of people walking around with congenital conditions and little benign anomalies, but that they are relatively unaffected by them...and of course we are mainly seeing patients that are experiencing effects! I'm I'm getting a bit off topic...as i said it's inconclusive at this stage. We have some theories based on how previous patients have presented and articles in medical journals regarding genetic defects..."

Betty's mind was working overtime; genetics and congenital meant 'born with it' and thus hereditary? It was a warped situation she found herself in; obviously and without question did she hope the attack hadn't caused her boyfriend any harm, by way of a long lasting brain injury, but at the same time, there was now the baby to factor in and how life would look for he or she... she rolled her shoulders back to try to change her mind state and re-focus.

"So if he's always had... whatever anomaly this is...?" Betty asked and Dr Bharat finished her sentence for her.

"...then that could be a positive finding, because as far as you are aware he's been unaffected by it his whole life and cognitively he functions just fine, plus I haven't found anything in his history to show any learning difficulties, medications or involvement with other professionals..."

At the mention of learning difficulties, FP's eyes went wide and for the first time during the consultation he straightened up. "No, no he's had no learning issues. He's a bright kid, Doc...wait, wait...are you saying he could be..." FP closed his eyes before voicing the shocking realisation that suddenly crossed his mind, Betty could see he was struggling to come to terms with what was being implied "...brain damaged by what that group of Shit Heads did to him."

"We're not there yet, Mr Jones. Please. But in some cases these abnormal findings are indicative of the aftermath of an injury; a bleed undetected or fluid or...there are lots of possibilities. But as I said he is stable right now as he is. I think it would help if we knew more about his history. You see, usually the little folk I see... yes I usually see paediatric patients, they present with concerns from their parents; they have developmental delay, are not meeting milestones or have motor difficulties... and then some are having seizures, and so then we do blood work for genetics and scans etc so it's easier to piece the puzzle together. In this case we are working the other way around." When the doctor continued probing, Betty noticed FP trying not to meet her gaze. She could tell he was feeling anxious. 

He took out a blank continuation sheet and pen "I was hoping you could fill in some blanks today? I looked at the record we have here but there isn't any antenatal, birth or neonatal,history, in fact I've got nothing to go on from before aged nine where he..." he paused for a moment to read the discharge summary "...sustained a right metacarpal fracture after a skateboard accident."

FP cleared his throat and repositioned himself in the chair, going to cross his leg and then uncross it again "uh, um no there wouldn't be, that's from when he landed funny on his wrist trying to do a trick"

"Was he born or registered at another hospital; I only have the one address on file..."

"He wasn't born in hospital..."

"Ok, well if we can start at the beginning; anything unusual with the pregnancy or any problems at birth?" 

"Look, I'm sorry," FP replied and rubbed the sudden sweat pooling on the back of his neck "I can't help you because...because I wasn't there!" Betty gasped and he sighed in response, clearly ashamed and looked out towards the window. "I knew he was born at home, well someone else's home..."

The doctor scribbled down some notes quickly, but did his best to remain unphased by this new revelation. "Was he ever admitted anywhere else early on? Did you ever notice any unusual movements or did he ever tell you about any experiences of strange sensations or hallucinations?"

"I don't know, no , no I hope not..."

"Did he see a paediatrician about his development?"

"I'm sorry, I just. don't. know. ...before, we never took him anywhere to see anyone..."

"Ok so we can assume he met his milestones as an infant?" What followed were a series of enquiries about the ages at which an infant, and then toddler, aged Jughead first smiled, laughed, spoke, sat independently, fed himself and walked. Betty was shocked to hear that FP didn't have a clue about any of that important stuff because the brutally honest truth was...

"I wish I could help you, doc, I really do, but I just don't know" the man had broken; sat with his head in his hands. "I don't know because we didn't have him for a long time right at the beginning. He was taken into a foster to adopt placement right after he was born. Let's just say his mother wasn't in the best state and I wasn't exactly winning father of the year awards either. If there are any letters or anything, you'll had to get in touch with social..."

"As painful as this is Mr Jones, anything you can shed light on, with regards to the pregnancy, could be helpful. For instance if he was exposed to any substances in utero...?"

"Oh god. Oh god... I'm sorry I can't..." Betty could see how upset he was at the implications and the pain was contagious. Of course she wanted to know more; a developing maternal instinct perhaps, but in the same breath she didn't want to cause any more heartache at that moment. 

"So what do we do now?" Betty asked matter of factly, sitting up taller in the chair. "Can we still look to take him off the ventilator?"

A plan was outlined about the next steps, and Betty breathed a sigh of relief when he agreed they couldn't delay for too much longer if the background information they were hoping to get wasn't going to be forthcoming any time soon. They would try and start the weaning process. But, he added, once he was fully off the ventilator it would mean a ward transfer and no more overnight stays for relatives, since another patient would need the ICU bed. FP just clammed up whilst everything was explained. 

"Of course it's important to remember, we can't always provide full explanations or give answers to all the whys. Sometimes the best we can do as a starting point is try and exclude the worst case scenario and treat what we do know and/or treat the symptoms".

Betty took a deep breath and asked the question that had been on the tip of her tongue for the last hour: "you mentioned earlier this is something Juggie could have been born with - a birth defect or something because of genetics - does this mean he will definitely one hundred percent pass this on... hypothetically speaking?"

This time it was Betty that tried not to meet FPs gaze, although she could sense it on her. 

"Hypothetically," Dr Bharat began "one theory we are discussing is that the cells in the area that could be a focus for the seizures are made up of something called dysplasia. This means simply that they don't join up neatly - think of typical cells joining up like bricks and mortar; they sit butt up to each other and there are no gaps and all in the same ordered pattern. With dsyplastic cells they are, for want of a better word, jumbled. It can cause issues with electrical messages being sent out when they aren't needed and causing other areas to fire when not needed. But this is just one theory. The images are not really conclusive enough on their own for this diagnosis. We sometimes see this with patients who are born with chromosomal duplications or deletions; sometimes there is an extra bit of DNA within the chromosome and sometimes it is missing some... now if blood work were to find a genetic abnormality in Forsy...Jughead, then yes, he could. There would always be a fifty percent chance any of his children would also inherit this... if we were to find anything like that, I'd be referring you and the family for genetic counselling, and it could mean implications for the wider family - we'd be asking for permission to test you, Mr Jones and his mother"

FP, whom had since gotten up and was pacing by the door, scoffed at this. "Gladys?! Huh, good luck with that"

"Sadly," Dr Bharat sighed "generally it's not cheap and I have found most insurances won't cover these sorts of investigations without very good evidence that the benefits outweigh the risks or costs to them..." he shook his head in disbelief "but if we had enough evidence to back it up it we could perhaps look to obtain funding from organisations like Searchlight or the Genome Project".

Betty listened carefully but found she didn't have words to reply, it was like anything she wanted to add was stuck in a lump in her throat. 

"But we are a long way off all of that yet, Betty." 

To be continued...


End file.
